
Book ■H? il^ ^ 



A TRAGEDY, 

IN FIVE ACTS, 



BY JAMES FTAYNES, 
Author of *' Coxsciexce." — A Tragedy 



.^5 performed at the London and Ne-jn-York 
Theatres f with great success. 



NEW-YORK : 

PUBLISHED AT THE 

rculating Library and Dramatic Repository, 
No. 4 Chamber-street, 
E. M. Murden, print. 



?K t7t1 



M 3 






BRAMATIS PERSOJiM. 



KMfr-TonK, 

The King, IN^i- ''o<*- 

B- NO- CAR, Mavwood. 

PiBAzro, Coopfr. 

A L- N z.. 8u»p5,on. 

PtKl ^^-'^tl. 

Gav^cia ^I'lrk. 

A>TH.)MO WOOdDulU 

Moorish Chikf. 

Zm.ixoa, ....Ml Miss JolmsoD, 

ior<?s, Citriens^ Herald, JttendantSykc, 
SCJbN £..— Grenada. 



Fv 0«- CO 






J> l.UR'i.i^A.- 



^0FW»SH»«5^ 



DIJRIZZO. 



ACT 1. SCENE I. 

»in Jpnrniient in Garcia*s Hmse, 
Enter Garcia' a«i/ Anthonio. 

Ant. SoSpain Iims lo?t the baUle. 'Twa«5aplo£ 
or If'f p contrivance, thouiih ot fe.irful ri^k, 
To «et sfispicioi} vhisporina; through the cacnp, 
Tili eacti iiio fetlow doubted. 

Gar. in the stretch 

Of our desisjns vrc must not .stop at hazard. 
The kinji, who:?e vve;dnie«;?hu.h prepared revolt, 
Totters upon his throne. His i.\\\ achieved, 
Grensda'jJ kin^^dooi h;*il^ me for its lord : 
Bv solemn compact with the Moor, 'ti« mine 
Ifonce our^ates receive him. 1 hence in course 
Ol fair succes.-ion it descend? to you, 
Mv nephew and my true inheritor. 

Ant. Rut is the Moor advancinj? on our city? 

Gar. Not yet Alouzo uni«t be lir*t recaird. 
And, in his place, a friend to our intents 
Ap|)ointed. 

Ant Should it not be done with speed '? 

Gar. Even now a mes^eu;i,er is in the camp 
To tfurauion him before Grenada's counrii. 

Ant. 'Tis said he bore him nobly on that day. 
Whose failure we ii|>braid him wilh. 

Gar. He di'i-, 

Bui not successfully. 



i iJl/RAi^ZO. ynes. 

Akt. Yet in his fame, 

He'll find support Then he has friends. 

Gar. What friends ? 

Friends found in sunshine, to be lost in storm : 

Ant. True ; but tftill Benducar is not one of 
those. 

Gar. We know not 

Until he's tried ; but let him do his utmost. 
You've heard me speak of our Durazzo ? 

Ant. I remember it. 

Gar. He vaunts to be a Spaniard born ; yet 
some 
Few years ago from foreign lands be came, 
A stranger to our state, with ample means, 
But no respectful meniion. To the poor 
He has been ever liberal; and hence 
They watch his looks tor leave to think ; and act 
As if their aunds were vassal to his bounty. 

Ant. I've heard he is of weight. 

Gar But note, beside ; 

He, in his turn, is ready at the door 
Of greater men, to do small offices, 
And grow into their notice. If his art 
Should rouse the people, we might reap the gain, 
And nothing fear from his ambition. 

Ant. Would you adri^e him of our purposes ? 

Gar. No farther than may serve to crush 
Alonzo. 

Ant. 'Tis worth some thought. 

Gar. He will he here anon. 

By my appointment, to attend our pleasure. 
Enter a Servant. 

Gar. How now ? 

Ser. My lord, a stranger prays to see you ; 
His name, Durazzo. 



Act I. BVR\ZZO, 5 

Gar. Bid him to approacli. 

(fj-it Servant, 
You'll Hill his jvptnesf fitUnj^, as 1 told^fou. 
Judge lor j*iii>e»t' — obf^erve. 

Enter Dukazzo. 
DuR. i^?y lo d. though here 

Ai your command, I fear my ze-A itath bro't me 
SLoo «oon ; biit on a motion I retire. 

GxiR. Thetune sails well, Dtjrazzo ; <-ii 3 oCl 

dr.wn. 
DuK. Nay, not in such a presence* Good my 
lord. 
The kind's a"flvi!«ing roi!n-( llors partake 
A ^joition of thi royalty the) guide, 
And in his absence are his suitstitutes : 
I dai'e not sit. 

Gak. My lord Anthonio, know 

This man for one of merit. 

Ant. Sir, I greftyou. 

DuR. Why to this honor I am raised, I know 
not, 
But I would fain deserve it at your hands. 
Gar. Have you not large acquaintance with 

the people ? 
DuR. 1 am well known. 
Gar. And influence ? 

DuR. As much 

A« falls to the particular lot of any 
Who, like myself, ivith good intent alone 
Purchase opinion of their countrymen. 

Ar.T. What say your follows of our late defeat? 
DuR. Sometimes they murmur. 
Gar, Are they not enraged 

As we arc &1I ? ! how the Moor will stride^- 
a2 



6 DURAZZO. CHaynei. 

Anil lift his dusky brow, to think that Spain 
For once has ielt him 1 

DuR. " If i might presume 

To speak on such high matter — 

Oar, How I presume ! 

The winds that blow the lumor in >our lace, 
Demand an ansner tVom >our passions. 

DuR. Then, 

As I have leave to pour my feeling forth 
With^mt restraini helore you, I will own 
What pride i had wa? in my country ^s greatness. 
Her fame in arms. The meanest citizen 
Can claim his share of boast therein, for he 
I] ad equals in the ranks that earned the glory. 
To see her greainess sunk ; her lame eclipsed ; 
And by the iniidel on whom we trod 
But sixteen moons before, tTie vanquish'd slave 
Our conqueror, the beaten our chastiser! 
O i if to speak my thoughts were not t'ofiend 
The. masters of my action, I would raise 
A voice within this city. — But i have 
Forjiot myself and you. 

Gar. Not so, Dirt-azzo ; 

Vour words are but an echo to the thoughts 
That in ns swell. Alonzo wrrong'd you once. 
DuR. He shewM me some contempt. 
Gaj^, Of course you felt it I 

DuK. So tar as nature in her law provides : 
But she's a quick performer ; sudden lights 
Her au2;er up, and soon it die* away. ^ 

Ant. Denducar, too, repulsed you, as 'tis said . 
Dun. In the saine cause. My purpose was to 
serve 
Airainst the Moor, and with an honest arm 
Work out a station in the social frame 



Act I. DURAZZO. 7 

Of this communit5^ Wealth I had some ; 
And knowledge, some of books, but more of men, 
Caught in the noisy schoolinir of the n'orld : 
But still I had no place. They sneer'd at me ; 
My heart rose once or twice, but that was all ; 
For 1 was weak in power, and nothmg proud ; 
And they had fashion's privilege to flout me. 

Gar. Can you not now retort ? 

DuR. Who, I, my lord ? 

Gar. Aye, yon or any. if the mouth can praise^ 
The mouth can blame — the mouth can bite I 

DuR. My Lord ! 

Gar. You scan this late disaster like a man 
Who loves his country's konor. To redeem 
The lustre of her fame — to vindicate 
Her fall among the nations, 'twere of use 
Example should be madej. Alonzo led 
Our heroes to defeat. Alonzo, therefore, 
He who could sneer at others, he should be 
The scorn of every candid tongue. Where are 
The peple — that they call not for his life, 
Surround the palace gates, and shnke the throne? 
Where are the people ? you, who know their 

mind. 
Awake it, and your wishes shall look at your 
Reward with wonder ! 

DuR. I am wonder-struck already ; 

To think that 1, the child of pale neglect, 
Should thus be pick'd and chosen from the mass 
To serve youi lofty need, and the state's interest! 
As I perform, so let me prosper in 
Your grar/es — the reward, the only one 
My Zcn\l can ask or merit. 

Gar. Lose no time ; 

You'll find the people in the pubhc square 



S DURAZZO. (Haynes. 

Full of strancje fancies and imagiinin^s, 
By fe >ir and an^er bred upon defeat 
One word of dark suspicion or reproach. 
Would set tfiera in a flame. 

DuR. Expect to se? it. 

If there be any faith in destiny, 
(And I have much,) the colour of my life 
Was made for this occasion. 

Gar. Should you meet 

Benducar there, accost him. 

DuR. Can you doubt 

He's for Alonzo ? 

Gar. We must be certnin. 

DuR. I'll prove him, and report himas i prove. 
Gar. Farewell, mv friend. 
DuR. Farewell, my noble patrons. 

(^Flxit Durazzo, 
Gar, What think you of our new ally ? 
Ant. Af one 

W^hose service We mu>^t usp, having no choice. 
Gar. You like him nnt. 
Ant. His early ?leep of pride 

One ray of fortune would awake to daring. 
I read it in his eye. 

Gar. He seems to bend 

His very soul before us. 

Ant. True — he seems : 

But these are ceremonials oft put on. 

Gar. Be it so ; 

Still we must use him, as you say. But coiie ; 
The kin;; expocts us, and hi«^ ear will need 
S«me poison yet, to lull AIomzo's praises, 



Act!. DURAZZO. 



SCENE 11.—^ public square. 

DuRAZZO and a crowd of Citizens! appear; Du- 

razzo an having addre^^ed ihem. 

First CiT. Huzza! huzza! Durazzo was 
ever the friend of the people : he advises well. 
To the palace — to the p'alace ; there to demand 
justice on Alonzo. 

All. To the palace. Huzz;^ ! 

DuR. Yet be not rash ; my speech, I doubt, 
was warm — 
It may be wrong ; but, as my heart conceived. 
My tongue has uttered. I wou'd have you tirm, 
But nothing violent. Thus siudl your cause 
Find favor ; your dishonor, full redress. — 
Peace, my friends ; 

Peace in the city, conduct in the field, 
And justice on the throne: be this your motto, 
And prosper. 

All. Huzza ! huzza ! 

First Cit. We mean no violence ; nothing' 
but justice on a traitor. 

Enter Benducar. 

Ben. Who talks of traitors ? 

First Cit. I, and every honest man. 

Second Cit. Alonzo is a traitor. 

Ben. Have you no reason, no respect for law, 
No conscience, that unheard you thus condemn 
A hero, with whose praises you have made 
Confusion in the clouds, 'till clamour let 
Their thunders loose to echo your rejoicings ? 

First Cit. Who is this spokesman ? 

DuR. 'Tis Benducar speaks ; 

A veteran warrior, and Alonzo's friend. 



10 DUR\ZZO. [Havnes. 

First Cit. Why, he blusters like the mouth 
of a "annon. 

Ben. *Tis sign the state lacks vigor and con- 
trol, 
When in the co^umon streets, the common crowd 
Usurp from onr tribunals, hoH imp»*ach, 
Convict, or justify, as winds may hlow 
Their .rbitrntion. 

First Cit- Thi* lord has no more respect 
for a poor man, than tf he had bought our car- 
casses tor tfie sake of our hides. 

DuR. If we, the crowd, are prone to shift 
about, 
'Tis you, the great ones of a nation. rn;jke 
The we itherthal we veer in. When your friend 
Al -nzo fotii^ht and ronquerM, be had praise ; 
Kovv, when hesiiijhts the buttle, 'lis not change, 
But constancy of mind, that o;ives a tone 
To suit our quick di-pleasure. 

Yo«ir pride w«)«ild seem 
To call us brutes in dullness ; nut we have 
One instinct, sir, to know our enemies. — 
Another to revenge our wro»icrs. 

Bkn. Thou «lave !— — 

But I have lost all patience. 

Second Cit. There, you hear he wants pa- 
tience ! He is m^d enou^jh to lose his temper, 
and fool enou2;h to acknowledge it. ( ouie to 
the palace ! — to the p dace ! 

All. Huzza! huzza! [exeunt M<b shouting: 

DuR. You look'd at me ; what would you say ? 

Bkn, 'I'he worst 

My ton^iue could utter, and not then enou2;h 
To paint your baseness. 

DvR. Think you, then, 'tis base 



ACT I. DURAZZO. 11 

Tf^ love my countrv, :ind to shew pome sign 
Ol -lief aiiii iUJit r, when her bloo<jV belray'd ? 
Ben. The charge is false. Hetra^'M .'how — 

bi tray'd '. 
DuR. VVas not the battle lost, and lost b_v men 
Of "^paiu, — by clo.xeii men, — by men who knew 
Tiie frice of Uealh, and .vere uot ran spectators 
0/i»is siaunt iorm ? Why. they hiid¥.haken hands 
Willi hnn belure in man a glorious tjetd. 
And now to fly ! — Yet» as yon say, 'tis fahe — 
II 'nay be that Alonzo is reviled 
Unjustly — Spam abn>ed — and the repute 
Oi this ill fai empire mule a mock for nothing. 
Ben. Whether to smile at your presumption, 

or 
To wonder most, 1 know not, He who lost 
The tiei 1 that day iougijt with an arm as brave 
A- e\er .ed to conquest. Those who fled 
RJ'ist answer for themselves ; but not to you, 
]Nor -uch as you. 

DuK. I'm glad Alonzo finds one tongue, at 

least 
To brave the public voice. 

Ben. The public voice! 

Tnere's not an arrant rogue in Spain but calls 
The wretched raving of his paltry eang 
*'7'Ac ^jublic voice :^^ nay, those who dare not 

speak 
Abt)ve their breath, for fe^ir of punishment, 
"Will whisper forth that voice, if you believe 
Their timid accents. 

DuR Let him come- 

Aye, let him. If the people have not hands 
Made but to dangle al their sides alone, 
There is a sinew in the multitude 



12 DURAZZO. (Haynes- 

May clutch your idol. You'll believe the storm 
When you behold the oak upon the ground. 

Ben. Come to me, then, and ask. 

DuR. I've spoken to 

As lofty men. Perchance in mine own breast 
There sits a counsellor, whose fiery thought 
But little weighs the st.ition or degree 
Of those it copes withal, if wither'd age 
Could shake my nerve, I had not sought your 

• aid 
To place me where the battle struggles hardest. 

Ben. Forgive me, I mistook your alter'd tone: 
*Tvvas then submission. 

DuR. But the boon it ask'd 
"Was danger. 

Ben. And you spit your venom now 
On those who knew you belter than to trust you. 
1 read your motive ; had we not despised 
Your fawning tricks, but placed you o'er your 

betters, 
This patriot burst had never stunn'd the crowd. 

DuR.. It may be so ; for I had likelier fallen, 
Than live to talk of it : and yet, methinks, 
I might have been entrusted with a post 
In such an army, and not spoil'd its fighting ! 

Ben. Away f — 

DuR. Whea 1 have done. 

Ben. Then stay, and finish. 
Avoid me ; 'tis not safe to try me farther. 

[exit Betiducar. 

DuR. A threat! — I'll follow, tho' he were 
a fiend, 
And taunt him. though he scaled a precipice. 

\e3fit Durazzo, 



Act I. DURAZZO. 13 

Enter Zklinda and Leonora. 

Zel. Was that my father ? 
Lkon. 'Tvvas Benelucar's voice 
Ami figure ; who the otiier w;i«; I know not. 
Zel. They seem'd to hold an angry con- 
ference. 
Leon. 1 thought so. 
Zkl. Leonora, I'm undone 1 
Leon. What mean* my friend ? My dear 
Zelinda, speak. 
In stormy Um>^$ iiUe tiiese canst think it strange 
That men will quarrel ? Fear not ; 'tis so much 
_A habit now, revenge is never thought on ; 
Moil give their speech a license from the time, 
Ai mariners swear loudest when the sea 
Runs maintain high. 

ZcL. Alas ! you know not how 
My heart is torn. That stranger — did you 

mark ? 
Jle saved my life — he won my love ; but how, 
!Nol knowing who my father is, hard chance I 
JHe ruins ev'ry hope, offending him. 

Leon. Amazemeit! Said you not he saved 

your life ? 
Zel, One evening, in the wood that skirts 
tl^ city, 
I wandei^'a forth alone. The weary sun 
Hadsloop'd hi?fo'eliead from ''.emos ntain brow 
"When from an ambu-^h sprang two ruffians ariii'd, 
And bent their steps where motionless I stood. 
I dropp'd upon my knees : Heaven lieard the 

prayer 
That rose in thought and terror ; for behind me 
Stood a deliverer silent and unseen, 



U DURAZZO. " (Haynes^ 

He rushM between the danger and his charge^ 
And fought y gallant tigfit : — it uas that stranger !- 
The rutfians fled before him ; he retnrn'd, 
Smiled tenderness, encouraged, raised me up, 
Bathed my hot temples in the running stream; 
Then mild in soothing words he led me on. 
Retraced my way, nor left me 'till in safety, 

Leon. But how, a stranger still ? Did you 
not ask 
The name of your deliverer ? 

Zel. 1 did ; 
But all in vain He told me that a cloud 
Hung o'er the foi tunes of hi-^ house, and he 
Must needs reveal the story of his fate 
With mention of his name. In line, he pray'd me 
To meet him once again ; and with his hand 
He point d out a suburb walk, where, time 
And leisure ^^erving, he would give mine ear 
To know his strange o'ershadow'd history. 

Leon. You went ? 

Zel. Before the day appointed came, 
My father, on a distant jouiney bound, 
Took me along : since then I never saw, 
'Till now, the man whom next himself I bono* . 

Leon. Renounce this sudden passion, aii<! 
incline 
To know no more of one so dark— mysterious 
Remember 'tis your father's will that you 
Should wed Alonzo. 

Zel. Would I could forget it ! 
Whatever side 1 turn me is despair. 

LtoN. The richest boon that Heaven c- : 
grant you now, 
Is ne'er to see that stranger. 

Zei,, Say you so ? 



AcTl, DURAZZO. 15 

Then are my riches sorrow.— But, behold ! 
My father comes, and with him— mighty heav'n 1 
It IS Alonzo ! 

Leon. Na\ , be firm, sweet friend ; 
Support this meeting : all will yet be well. 
Enter Benducar and Alonzo. 

Ben ZeUnda, from thy father take in pledge 
Of happier days to come, a hero's hand. 
He has his tu^s with fickle Fortune too ; 
But thine is not a soul, my tender girl. 
To ^liJ;ht a bvave man in calamity^ 

Zkl. Most welcome. Sir, to Spain. [To Alon. 

Alon. But more to thee ? 

ZiLL. So far as friend^ship may have leave to 
say so. 

Ben. Come, you must lay those maiden airs 
aside, 
And talk of love and wedlock. If he need 
Another claim, to give his suit the force 
Of gratitude, know that your father's life 
'Twas his to save, when, some few moments 

since, 
A villain drew upon me. 

Zel, (), my father! 
And would a wretch profane 

Ben. I s i.ote him first 
For his presumption. 

Zel. How I a blow !— are blows 
For men, who, in their high ; spirings, look 
At Heaven, and see their image in the thought 
They catch of the Divinity ? 

Bkn. What means 
The frantic gir! / 

Leon. Nothing, my Lord ; or but— 
A sudden illness. Speak not thus, in mercy .^ 

{To Zelinda. 



16 DURAZZO. (Havnes. 

Ben. 'Tis well my friend Alonzo took my part 
AVarni'^r than mine own child. Oar clasliing 

swords 
Had else in v^in conducted him to where 
The strong assailant put me on defence. 
But he shall be my son, and this /rood act 
Perform'd, while on his way to meet his foes 
At home, shall prove ati happy augury. 
Zel. Is the offender slain ? 
Aloi*. Zeiinc' 

I beat their weapons down, and parted them. 
Zel. Thank Heaven and thee, Alonzo! 

(^FiiUs into Ltonora''surms, 
Alon. Ha 1 — she faints ! 

Leon. No, my lord, 'tis weakness, and will 
pass. 
The sudden shock her father's danirer gave 
Hath brought this lowness on : ''ti^ nothiag more; 
I'll guide her hence ; anon she will be better. 
Exeunt i^ennnra and Zelinda — the latter 
supported by the former, 
Ben. What could her strong emotion mean ? 
There is 
One fear I would not let my mind indulire. 

Alon. Durazzo was not named ; or, if he was 
'Twere hardly possible her choice could stoop 
So low, as for his sake to feel alarm. 

Ben. At least vve'll hope so 'till the worst 
appear ; 
And then — but Til not threaten. 

Alon. We do wrong 

Todoubt her prudence. Of the quarrel, though, 
Between Durazzo and yourself, my lord, 
i had not time to ask you how tliat could happen. 
Ben. I should have scorn'd him, but 'tis hard 
to hear 



Act I. DURAZZO. 11 

One's friend traduced. 

Alon. What said he ? 

Bkn. Nothing — but 

W< s insolent. 

Alon. You struck him in your rnge ; 

jT-A'.is not f( r nothina; vou couitl lift }our arm 
A, iinsl a thing so worthless. 

hKN. Nay, he call'd 

/.^ triend a — coward 1 

Alon. Coward ! — ha ! 

[Attempting to drain). 

Fen. Put up 

Y'.ur ^word ; the toi^ch has justiiied mj f^^ry. 

AloiN. I own 'twas hard to bear — Durazzo^ — 
Well, 
No mittor : we shall meet when fate decrees^ 
And [i-Tt when Death makes liis election. 

Ben. 'i'oo long ue dueil upon a worthless 
theme ; 
Let*R chan'ie it for a nobler, and discourse, 
Like soldjer:?, of the war. 

Alon. Ah ! there again 

My wrongs cry out. Before the battle join'd, 
'TwaS so contriv'd, that, in the soldiers' tents 
Were }Mpers dropp'd, insinuating plots 
Oi'treachi ry, concerted with the Moor 
For their destruction. 

Bri:N. How ! by you concerted ? 

Alon. By me, their leader, who would rtr- 
ther sell 
My soul in ope n contract to the fiend, 

}\uu indirectly thns devote myself. 

i)EN. And fled they ? 

Alok. On the tirst attack, like sheep, 

b2 



38 DURAZZO. (Ilaynes. 

From their own fears they fled. I stood my 

ifround, 
'Twas on a hillock, there resolved to die 
Within t'leir view. Some niatchles^s spirits rush'd 
To L^iare my fate ; and vvith such odds agamsi us 
We met the change, that you would think the 

souls 
Of men, and not tiirir bodies, were embattled. 
Ben. Fought they so liercely ? 
Alon. With the tiger's rage, 

By man's hi^h thought ennobled: long we fought 
'Till what was mortal in us sank beneath 
What was immorial. Then my comrades fell 
For very weariness ; hut, on his iace 
Did each man fall, and m his frown empire, 
And, sword in hand, cut forward to his grave. 
I sank exhausted top ; but Heaven would have 
My life preserved : cover d with blood 1 rose, 
And once I look'd upon the field, and saw 
My silent heroes ; — if the tears 1 shed 
Gould speak, their country could not be ua- 
' grateful 

Ben. Ungrateful ! — no : the nation's heart 
will leap 
To hear this story. — But how happened it 
The others fought not, when they saw your arm 
In earnest, and the })roof in havoc round you ? 
Alojv. Some were suborn'd ; the rest were 
panic-struck, 
And fled. 

Bln. Yet by wlrat chance did you escape. 
Captivity ? 

Alon. Left on the field for dead, 

I took advantage of the cominjx night, 
And to tiie camp return'd ; when soon arrived 



Act IT. ]dUII\ZZG. 1^ 

The summons for my prompt appearance here, 
To ansiver, in my place, the guilt ot others. 
Ben. Trust to your cause and character : it 
■^ they , . , 

Should fail,— trust to that other hope, which, 

thouj^h . 

Unknown to vulgar minds, inspires the noble 
To hear misfortunes rijihtiy. 

Alon. What is that? 

Ben. The sentence of posterity. 
Alon. Let faction do its worst ; I will look 
forward. 
And so he tirm. C^^'^^*^^- 



ACT 11, SCENE I. 
An Apartment in Durnzzo's House. 
Enter Durazzo and Perez. 
Per. Yet, sir, be patient. Such a wrong Is sure 
Some time to be revenged. 

QrjK. If, while my blood 

Was hat, 1 struck him dead, Hwere well ; but not 
On after-thought. 

Peh.. The pride that lifts you thus 

Should pacify you too: I thought the news .. 
You heard but nov7, would have subdued all 

passion 
To make a way for mourning„ 

j)uK. Poor Vmcenzo I 

Ana is'he dead ? Well, lie is safe from insult. 
I low did the messenj^cr report of him ? 
My mind was rack'd too fiercely to attend. 
Fek. The story was a brief one, told without 



£0 DURAZZO (Haynes. 

Parade of circumstance, and meaot no more 

Thau lliat^orirfneifH hiji mortai wound received 

In battle, fiji,hting by Alnnzo\«. .side : 

1 hat. to hi;* lent ronvey'd, he wrote in pain 

Tiii- letter onarewe;!, pujduced to you 

By the same uiessen^* T. {Grciug a letter. 

Dlr. It imy be nnade 

Some ujie of. VV^as the Mfe exntjct before 
He left the cam}) wtjo brought it? -aid he so ? 

Flk. fiie iast coid breath was drawn. 

[Knocking withciit. 

DuR. . Go see who knocks, [exii Fetez. 

This hand reminds me of our playful day^. 
Ere 1 Was cursed with hopeless pride, or felt 
The spurn of insult Now, could 1 employ 
His memory to profit my revenge, 
'Twf re like an act of postliuraous regard 
Doue by his spirit. Ha ! M) lord, good morrow; 
1 look'd ttot for this honour. 

Enter Garcia. 

Gar. I have heard 

Of old Benducar's roughness. 

DuR. Yes, a blow 

Was somewhat rough. 'Tis true his hand was 

feeble, 
But if a giant's sinews struck nie down, 
They could not brand me with a deeper shame 
Than his insulting blow. 

Gar. Restrain this passion : 
You tiiink too much of it. 

DuR. I do submit 

Myself to your good wisdom, that I ought 
To feel as others feel such injury. 
The be^^ar \vx% his feelings. 



Acrir. DURAZZO. 21 

Gar. Trust in my faith ; he shall repair 

the wrong. 
DuR. Repair he cannot, but he should re- 
pent it. 
Gar. 1 came to you on other business now, 
Of greater moment than an oid man's rage. 
Alonzo is arrived, the King has named 
Thi.f day to hear his accusation. 
DuR. That's somewhat sudden. 
Gar. Somewhat startlina; too ; 

For, though the fact will speak lull strongly of 
Itself, the time allows not to provide, 
By witness, contirmation of our cause, 
Such as no doubt can tarnish. 

Dur. I am grieved 

To hear of this. 

G»R. There are some men, Durazzo, 

Of upright mind, who, once assured of guilt. 
As you ?.nd 1 can warrant of Alonzo's, 
W'.>uld stretch a little in particulars, 
To nerve, as 'twere, the arm of justice, lest 
By accident it fail. 

Dur. And you would have 

The same precaution taken ? 

Gar. Could I find 

A person capable, and so disposed. 
My vvish is to make sure. 

Dur. I hate Alonzo. 

He i? Benducar's friend— I think him guilty, — 
1 know him proud. — He spurned my service 

once — 
And even now when proud Benducar smote me, 
Ke stepped between me and my just revenge ;. 
U herefore, I'm yours to think, 
Contrive and execute, whatever best 



22 DURAZZO. 



(ITayncs» 



May cut off one. or both, or all together. 

Gak. But ;tri) i safe to trust \ou ? 

DrR. Trust not me : 

No ; — but trn?t my wrongs, my rage, my cursesl 
Rpvenj^e shall be my voucher ; 
For as I had no pride or eminence 
Above the worm, but in the form of man, 
The tdow, that hath debased tnat (of m, allies 
And links it to revenge 1 here i> no force 
In words or bonds, in vows or oaths, to give 
Assurance so conj| lete as enmity 
Breathing in i^ilence. 

Gar, I accept the pledge, 

And thus adopt yon in m} contidence. 

Dull. Then hear me. In the battle fell a 
youth 
Much noticed of Alonzo for his deeds : 
My playmate when a child. He wrote to me 
Upon his d}ing bed — i,o matter what — 
Enoni;h to know he wrote ; and it is known 
To all the camp bc^ide. What if 1 bring 
This witnipss from tht sirave to do the work 
You think the living ojd\ can accomplish. 

Gau. Proceed— explain. 

Di R. 1 know to imitate 

His vMitten style, as glass or water send 
T he features biick, v\ si I out a line neglected. 
In such a sort I'll [<et. a grievous charge ; 
A< if the gallant victim made complaint 
Of treachery, and fix'd it on Alonzo. 

Gar. Do that — succeed in that, and name 
the wealth 
That shall reward you. 

DuR. Were the stock of Croesus 

Within your giit, it could not bribe me to 



Act it. DURAZZO. 23 

This desperate act. My longings are notsordid ; 

Snould yoii stii! 
Persist in recompense, my terms are these, 
None oiher. If my fortune he to fail, 
Piiiisoe me to the iijiave. I vonhl not live ; 
'Twill |.)olv the more like innocence in you, 
And will he real mercy. li' 1 thrive, 
Let not Aionzo sutl^^r more t'lan ^xile : 
Give me the means to pav Bendncar's hlow : 
Atlord me some condition in the ^late. 
And ratify the p?ace 'tuixt mo and mankind. 

Gar, Whoe'er thou art, mysterious niortal, 
thy 
Commands are sacred. But 'tis tit we part, 
'Till in the Court, before the king, our project 
Is put to test. 

DuR. The sooner now he better. 
Perez ! [exit Garcia' 

Enter Pekf.z. 

DuR. Set ink and pa{>er m my chamber, 
And see that none approach. 

Per. Sir, i obey. [exit Perez. 

Dub. In Court to plead, before the King, 
against 
The greatest man o' the state ! 
Now artifice be true to me. The task 
I undertake is hazardous and loul, 
But full of mighty purpo«<e. 

Kings tie now have waded 
Through brothers' blood to empire : childrea 

have 
Trod on the neck of [>arents in their march 
To bright ambition. 'Tis not so with me : 
I push but foes a?ide : n akf good my ('assage 
Through crowds of scornful and injurious men. 



24 DURAZZO. (Hajnes- 

No shock to nature or affection giving 

In the condition of my enterprize. 

Too long have I been humble. Now to prove 

The inborn spark ascendant o'er the mass 

Of vile obstruction : To Court — to Court ! 

These weeds shall soon be doff'd for golden 

suits ; 
While the proud stature, and the lofty mein. 
Instruct the world that I was born for greatness. 

[Exit. 

SCENE U.— The Street. 
Enter Blnducar and Alonzo. 

Ben. The king, methinks, grows wary : — 
'twas a prompt 
Decision, to allow so short a space 
Between your trial and your coming home. 
Alon. 'Tis better for the better cause. 
Ben. We will on to Court 

Amonn the first ; 'twill shew an eagerness 
Befitting well your innocence. 

Alon. I'm ready. 

Ben. Soft you, Zelinda comes. Go thou 
before, 
And wait my presence in the audience-hall, 
Where with my best dispatch, Til follow you. 

[Exit Alonzo. 
How buried in her o'wn surmise she seems ! 
I'll tax her indirectly with the doubt 
That cross'd my mind, and haunts it still. H^^^' 
now ! 

Enter Zeunda. 
Zel My father ' 



Act TI. DURAZZO. 25 

Ben. ^ Start yon, then, to find him here ? 

Zel. ' fwas out ri fooli-jji tremor of the nerve • 
Such as the lanjiiiid spirits oft give way to 
W ben hap^/iest and safe.<t. ' 

^KiV. I would have 

A word with you ; it will not t ike you long 
To hear a simple story, not without 
Its iij aning, datj^;liter. 

Zel. ^ 'Tis my duty, Sir, 

In tale or precept, to attend your wisdom. 

Ben. I had a iainbidn once, when I wasyouno- 
And m my arms I used to bear about ''' 

The woolly favourite : [ fed it from 
Mv hand with herbs, the sweetest I could find 
Along the water's brink. It knew my voice 
And trotted at my call ; but when it grew ' 
To greater strength, it loft me— joinVUhe flock 
Got wild, and wandered : — I remember stiJl ' 
The pani I felt at brute ingratitude. 

Zkl. What should I draw from thence ? 

^'^^- No blame to that 

Poor native of the field • it was its instinct • 
The bleating liock U joined spoke its own lan- 
guage ; 
Mine was a foreign tongue. But had it been 
A human favourite — a creature skiU'd 
To weigh my words, to re..d my thoughts, to 

trace 
The fondness here abiding,-~and it left me ; 

Or if a daughter, and deserted me 

Would you not say that nature had betrayM 
Her trust, to make a devil by creation ? 
Ha I do you shrink ? 

Zel. Your manner aod your eye 

r lash tear upon my soul, 
c 



26 DURAZZO. (Haynes. 

Bejj. I have not leisure 

For closer question uov\ — Alonzo vvaits. 
But be the iss^ue of this day or a;ood 
Or bad, so he but live,— look 3'ou obey me ; 
The prie.«t is ready tu unite your hands, 
The t^^uests are bidden to the solemn rite, 
And nought rcniains but your consent to crown 
The ceremony. 

Zel. How ! — so soon, m> father ? 

Ben. Renieiiiber 'us .ny will, nnd must be so. 

[exit, 

Zel. Now is the measure of my woes com- 
plete. 
To be Aionzo's wife !— the horrid thought 
Creeps like somje livin*: reptile o'er my brain. 
And threatens .madness ! Do 1 rave already ? 
Enter DuRAZZo. 

DuR. 'Tis she herself ! Oh, what a lip is 
there 1 
It speaks m silence to the soul of man, 
And beauty is its lani^uage. 

Zel. What to do 

I know not ; what I ought's impossible. 

Dua. Turn not away. Speak, prithee- • 
spe;ik a:;ain ; 
For not the Thracian bard could touch a string 
So inciting sweet, when plaintive Echo stole 
His music on the waters of Despair, 
As in that accent bless'd me. 

Zkl. Foi" my life, 
I outj;ht to bless you in the truest sense 
Of blessing— b my earnest prayers to Heav'n : 
Yet if you knew my nam.' 

j^TK. PronouRce the word ; 



Act ir. DURAZZO. "^^ 

Mv heart is lis'eninL^ 
"Zel. Search throuj^h your meroory tor such 

a name 
As, with it^ hateful odour, turns the breath 
Of mention to a curse. 

Du^, In all the world 

There is but one. 

Zel. Then you can name mv ♦a^ner. 

DuK. Oh misery ! and are the stationed plan- 
ets on the vvatch. 
That good approach me not. 

Zel. FoTiiive my father ; — 

Fora;ive him for Zeiiiuia's sake. 

Dua The blow 

Hath reach'd my mind. Forsretfuh^p.^5^, that used 
To walk with time, performing otiices 
Upon the earth that would become an angel, 

Is buried in the centre, 
And never, never more will vissit me. 
How can I then forgive ? 

Zf:L. By thinkin::^ on 

His daughter's love, who weeps to own she 
loves you. 
DuR. Brii,-ht angels catch the sound, and 
bear it on 
Your silver wings to b'end witli my ambition. 

[Trumpets ^ound. 
But hark ! the trumpet's tongue proclaims the 

court 
Convened. Sweet, we mu«t part ; yet, ere I go, 
On promise grant me ; never, come what will, 
To wed Alonzo. 
Zel. Never. 

Dun. One thing more, 

For my sake wear this ring ; that sparkling 
. hoop 



28 DnR\ZZO. (Havnes. 

Of your's exchange with me ; then if the bolt 

[Tiicij exchange rmga. 
Drop flown, hy rule or random, on m\ h^ad. 
Be sure, if time allow, I'll ki#s thi;* tok^-n. 
And bless you, ere I die. Farewell — firpwell. 

[exit, 
Zel. What have I done 1 how shall 1 meet 
my father ? 
How bear hi« look of anger ? and the ring — 
Ha ! 'twa<» my mother's ring ; I gave it in 
Mistake. Avert this omen, gracious Heaven, 
Which seeois to threaten ruin and despair. 

\f',xit. 



SCENE III.-^ Hall of State. 

The King seated on his Throne. The Nobles 
ranaed on each side. Garcia, Anthonio, 
Benducar, Alonzo, and .Attendants standing. 

King. Here, in our Couit, before the as- 
sembled Peers 
Of Spain, Lord Garcia, fieely speak your mind ; 
That if the Moor hath conquoi'd, not by force^ 
Or skill superior, but by treachery 
In your own troops or leaders, we may know 
Our ene 'y betimes, nor waste abroad 
The vengeance due at home. 

Gar. To your high mandate, 
I bow with prompt ohediellC^' : and attach, 
In virtue of nine offi<e, Don Alonzo 
As traitor to the state His skill s known ; 
His valor oft was tried, and never questioned ; 
'Till skill and valor were at lengh suhdufd 
By Moorish hands, which dealt in bribes — not 
blows. 



ActII. VVR\ZZD, 3 

Alo^t. In brlbe= ! 

Gar. The word is harsh, I will confess ; 
Even as I speak, I taste itis bitterness : 
But truth must needs be spoken. 

Ben. Crush d, you mean — 

Stitied — dethroned— cast down, and trod upon 
Like a base idol, when a statesman dares 
To wrong an honest soldier. — You to cant 
Of bribes 1 is there j,io blush beneath that skin? 
l'(Ow taste its bitterness ! the word should choke 
you. 

Gar. Again I do repeat my charge is snch : 
Upon what ground, ifyou will please to listen, 
The proof shall tell. 

KiKa. What is Aioi... ■ 

Does he deny the accusation, 
And rest upon his innocence ? 

Alon. My j :;.;., 

My sovereign ; I would claim }OGr pi:^y n.st ; 
That here i stand the victim of foul arts 
Practised against mine honor. To be call'd 
A truitor by a traitor, and accused 
Of bartering for bribes my hard-earn'd fame,' 
BTy well-trie I loyalty — to hear thii? done 
With cold formidity, and to be coijstrain'd 
To formal answer and smooth ar^Mmieut, 
*Spii;e of the impulse which my innocence 
Touchcft with tiie ; to talk like struggling guilt, 
Instead of rushing on the miscreant's throat 
Whose calumny hath thus reduced me. These 
Are degradations, sufierings, and wrong?, 
To move a monarch's pity. — If ther^i be 
A witness to be brought, e'en let him come— 
I dare him. Yet, if falsehood hath a power, 
CoIIeagued with arts of hell, to vanquish truth. 
e2 



39 BUTt^ZZO. (Hayncs 

And mRke me seem to he the thin!]j I am not, 
1 ask no [)ity then : e'en kill me on 
The instant. 

King. Bring forth the witness. 

Gar. Here he comes, so please 

My Ro3'al Master.— 

Enter Durazzo, 

Alon. How! — Durazzo — he J 

Ben. This ! — what, is this youv witness ?— 
Garcia tell me — 
Anthonio say — witness ! — to what ? — to acts 
Done in the field, where he durst never peep ? 
This fellow ! why, he never saw a battle 
Save in a book, and then was thunder-struck. 

King. My lord Benducar, to your services. 
And reverend age, we grant more licerjce than 
Your wisdom ought to stretch into abuse. 
Our pleasure is that we will hear this man. 
Know you the cause why summoned thus you 

stand 
Before us ? 

DuR. At my sovpreiffn's feet I kneel. 

With heavy heart, to state such matter to 
This j^rave assembly, as must needs affect 
The fame of one exalted by the breath 
Of noblest mention. If he Adl throuj^h me. 
From the high estimation which he hoi Is 
In rijiht of past exploits, 'tis not that I 
Am envious, and would wrong bun. but that he 
Was reckless, and hath wronc'd his own repute, 
Di-^carding fame for lucre. Of myself, 
'Tis true, as hath been said in scorn. I was not 
Eye-witness to the conduct of the ti'^ld ; 
Tkey t«ok good «ure ©f that j but©'er the grave 



Act It. DURAZZO. 31 

There is a lamp lit up by destiny, 
In whose reflective and unnaiural light 
Thetbingsgoieby areshudow'd ; IiO-»k, AlonzO; 
Know you that writing. [Shewing >i packet. 

Alon. It shonld bv Vmccnzo's ; 

The gallant officer who served m<? well 
Even to the last. O! would that he were here 
To answer (rom his knowledge the inventioa 
or my accuser.*. 

DuR. To the eye of power 

And justice I commit the docuiaent, 
Fail vengeance wh'Te if may I 

(G(ves the packet to the king. 

King, {r^:i(ls.) \\^ ! vvh-it is here ? treason— 
Alonzo, was this well ? 

Alon. How ! 

I'll not believe mine ^rrr^. thnt if is so 

May I erilie.'i to look !ij>on the paper. 

it 1 can see. (T/tc king gives him the packet. 

Alon. [readi,/^.) *' Fly to the king^ 

*' And tell hirn, on the dying word of one 
** Who shed his hlood for Spam, ti)at now too late 
*' Mine eyes are opened to Alonzo's baseness. 
" 'Tis certain he wa'j bribed, and we betray'd, 
" Surrender'd, sold ; I can no more, for death 
*' Arrests my hand. Farewell ! and deem no ri-t 
" Too great t« run, that may preserve your 

country." 
I know not what to say — my senses turn 
Against their owner. I could swear it was 
His writing ; but my knowledge of his mind. 
His heart, his glorious spirit, gives the lit^ 
To my astonish'd vision. Docs it stand 
To reasoo, that tjie cpmjrade who made choice 



32 T)URAZZO* (rinynps. 

To die wiih me, w hen thousancls fled the field, 
Would on the biink and fhreFbohJ of his grave, 
Slop, and turn round, to tlandcr whom he fought 

for? 
ril not believe it, 

Bi N. No ; nor I — nor any. 

'Tis fal'e, — 'tis forged, — ;i c;diuuny asrtunst 
Tlie living and the dead. Observe its structure 
> o rirct]rn«tance detail'd ; no fact set forth 
VVii.h which to i;:rap{de ; bat an accusation, 
\Vhosie broad iKunf aninjr fjce thi« artist hero 
Would fain bedanh wit}) filcc panicniars 
To his own vicious hkit\g. Fie npon't, 
Tnls is a trick ot cunniiijr; to avoid 
Detection, -.vlule it mnrdprs in the day, 

DuR When I adduce «nch fake particulars', 
Expose — denounce them. I have utter'd nor 
JS'or sliall J. If the accusation* hanu;s 
But !oo-fly, 'tis jrood reason tvhy Alonzo 
Shouhl live, as in nriy soul h w'l^h he may : 
But is it ca«i?e why he shouid stjil enjoy 
The royal confidence ? and, nl the head 
Of armies, strilic the biow, thatmu-t be nerved 
With honest, tamest, uusu^pected zeal 
To reach the lieart ot' opposition, and 
L'". out the blood of enemies ? Besides, 
Look to the part< beyond dispute. Who fell ? 
Those who coiitided in the general : 
.And who escuped ? — those who suspected him, 
Ar.d, shame to say, himself. 

Alon. Villain, 'tis false ; 

There is no shame in fighting to the last, 
And bcin.^; saxed with honor. Is the will a 

Of Heaven a proof aii:;ur)st me ? By your leave— I 
(6naiciies Bitiducarh sword. 



Act IT. DUilAZZO. ; 

There is a stretch of patience gnilty-like— - 
I'll cut the shmderer down. 

Ben. Consider, man, (^Holding Alonzo, 

The phice — the presence. 

Alon. Let my fury go. 

Ben. We are but two. 

Alon. And it" but one, I care notJ 

What should I fear, who have a sword— a h-iind-v 
A heart — a quarrel — and — an inj'iry! 
O ! 'tis the lion's fury, not his size, 
That makes the forest tremble. 

{^Breaking frnvi him. 

All. Treason ! trea.-^on ! 

{rising from their ticats. 

DuR. He threats the king. 

Alon. Abhorred fiend, thou lie.-t. 

Grant me your pardon, sire ; 'twas want of pa- 

ti' nee. 
Not of respect. 

Dun. Where patience is respect. 

Bi N. I pray your majesty for».^ivp his rashness. 

Alon. I pray your majesty pronounce my 
doom, 
Even as your thought inclines. If I'm a traitor, 
Give me the traitora's fate : if not, acquit me. 
That my brave comrades fell — that I surviv'J — 
Is true ; and if it be a crime in one 
To 'scape, who never turn'd his back on danger, 
'Tis meet that 1 should forfeit to the law 
The penalty of such otTcnding. 

DuR. I have no more to say : my speech is 
there — 
That paper holds it : yet my gracious master, 
If there be aught besides \ou vrish to learn, 
Touching the manner — how it came to hand-r- 



U DUH\ZZO. (Ilaynes. 

Who hro'f it — who was present when Vinceozp 
Delivered it — and such corroborants, — 
X will relate thenni now in open court ; 
Or, if it better please, at other time, 
And to your private ear. 

Ben. What means the slave ? 

Kinsjs have no private ear>?, or should have none. 

King. Here break we up the court to medi- 
tate 
Our final sentence. Meanw^hile thou, Durazzo, 
Attend us to our closet, where alone 
We have some matter to investigate 
Touching this cause ; the res^t remain behind. 
(exeunt King and Durazzo. 

Ben. {aside to Mouzo.') Our violence hath 
ruJn'd all, 

Alon. No matter, — 

They know our minds. 

Ben. I fear the kins: is wroth. 

Alon. 1 fear it not, for I i\m innocent. 

G.AK. My lord Bendncar. 

Bkn. Did you name my name ? 

Gar. It is not seemly, that a man of your 
Repute shoeld hold the prisoner in regard, 
'Till bis acquittal warrant such cotnmunion. 

B)«:n. Indeed ! 

Ant. 'Ti? not the practice. 

Bfn. May be not 

The practice now. Yet 'twas a good old rule 
That made necessity tlie test of friendship. 
At my age h^bit has an awkward trick 
Of puttiiii^ off the fashion'^ of the time, 
To wear misused virtue, ti'ough His laughed at. 

Gar The Herald ronie^^. 

Alon. I can lock up and hear him. 



,11, DUR^ZZO. 30 

Enter Herald. 
Her. Attend ye all the missive of the king. 
In t'civor to Alonzo's past exj loits, 
The sentence is not death, but banishment, 
To be in execution ere the night 
Hath thmn'd Grenada's streets. This proclama- 
tion 
Gives the irrevocable force of law 
To owr dread monarch's breath. 

Bkn. Cheer up, my son ; this cruel mjury 
Shall bear my comment with it. Ere the night, 
My daughter's hand i.i thine. 

Alon. ^^y noble friend, 

My father, I'll endure mankind for thee 
With ail their crawling vices. Come, away 1 
Ben. Give me but leave to spend one hearty 
curse 
On those deservers. 

Gar. V*'e disdain your crrs-^. 

Alon. You may ;— he has not one to match 

your baseness. 
Ben. I have it in my heart— in gall— m ven- 
om, — , - 
But language is too weak. Hear, then, thou 

Power 
Who see'st it in its workings. Let it tall 
With unexpressive horror on their heads. 
That t)je fierce hope which now dries up my 

toni^ue 
May stick to them, like locusts to the gra>A, 
That never more caa nourish, nor be nourish d. 



S6 DURAZZO- (Hayoes. 

ifcu iii III ... . . ,.. , . jrzr 

ACT III.— SCENE I. 

The Street. 
Enter Garcia and Anthonio. 

Ant. 'Ti? passing strange, the King shouUl 
so degrnde 
The rank of our nobility, to make 
A present on"! to one so nseanly born — 
For such a serrice too ! But is it certain 
Dnrazzo claims equality with us. 
And we must bear it ? 

Gar. Some time since I joinM 

Th Council, in whose presence he was call'd, 
And there saluted with his proud additions 
By Itoyal iiuuidate. 

"Ant. So this is the humility we thought 
To make account of. 

G\R Nay, 'twill serve our cause, 
By spreading discontent : wherefore, though. 

harsh 
And gallina: to our pride, our interest 
jyiay stomach it. 

Ant. But what pretence — what show 
Of reason, can the King advance to those 
Who have no deep designs to reconcile 
Their feelings ? 

Gar. More than you w^ould guess, Anthonio ; 
For now it so turns out, that, having gain'd 
The Monarch's favour. 
This Durizzo proves himself 
Descended of a stock ennobled once ; 
And shif-w;; !he claim of jrg)it to wear the title. 
You've beard of iioid Gohsalvo ? 



Act III. DURAZZO. 37 

Ant. Many times. 

Gar. An age hath 'lapsed since he forprac 
tices 
Of magic rcience, which the people loathe — - 
The law forbids — religion execrates — 
Was of his rank deprived, and banish'd hence 
A wanderer. 

Ant. So far I know the fate 
Of that corrupted house. 

Gar The exile lived 
A careful life ; and, dying, left his son, 
Durazzo's fathei, whathi;* prudence saved 
From sequestration. Some while since the son 
Died aNo, which brings down their history 
Nigli to the point we speak of. 

Ant. But how came 
Durazzo to conceal his birth so long ; 

Gar. Ere he changed 
Iialian skies for Spanish, in pursuit 
Of bis design, he task'd a beldam's skill 
To prophesy of the event. 

Ant. The taint 
Was in the race. What said his counsellor ? 

Gar. Foretold the prosperous issue of his 
cause, 
Rut one condition nam'd ;— that he should keep 
The secret of his birth as close as frost 
Knits uptiie waters, 'ull by cunning, or 
I3y chance, he gained familiar converse with 

the king, 
And then to speak. 

Ant. 'Twas singular. 

Gar. She said, 
""vloreover, that if he to other ears 
i han those of Majesty tirst told his tale., 

D 



38 DURAZZO. (Havnef, 

The sj'ites ofhope would ?!hut on his endeavour. 
lie took her word, and triumjth'd. 

Ant. Is the king 
Advised ofthis ? 

Gar. He is : 'twas from his 'ips 
I henrd it now ; he from Durazzo's own : 
B'lt mnrk wh^t I have since resolved upon. 
E'l'i) now Vm on m^ wav 
To ineet him in his home, where, putting off 
All ceremony, I will hold nuself 
A?! iiTPHt ones o'er inferiors dominate. 

Ant. Ami will he brook}'our hauijhty cnrriage 
tamel)' ? 

Gak. It sh;dl he tried, at least. Do jou, 
my friend. 
Meanwhile await the coming of our spies : 
I ' v)k tor notice o( the Moor's approach 
At every new arrival. 

Ant. You shall find 

My zeal awake. 

Gar. Anon we'll meet again, [exeunt^ 



SCENE 11. — An Apartment in Durazzo-s 
House. 

Enter Dura^zo splendidly attired^ followed by 
Per z, 

DuR. Xow Perez, give your happy master joy, 
And chanjje the title of your revf r-nce 
To *uit his npw condition. I am come. 
Ennobled by the king, to mate with greatnpss. 

Per. Thank Heaven, i live to call you lord ", 
therefore, 
.My lord, I give you joy 

DuR, Froclaim it far, 



AotHI. DUR^ZZO. 3S 

That those who nriock'd my humble state may 

Their 'ip^ with envy. 'Tis not that i prize 
The empty title tor its empty sake ; 
*Tis but a phrajie ,• yet, as the world is caught 
With svliables, the phrase hath vdne in't, 
And I would ijive it swellin* cuirency 
Throughout the realm. 

PtR. It !*h^«ll not lack my voice. 

DuR. i met a noble as I cnme, who thouglit 
To look me out of favour with m^selt^, 
A' he was wont to do. My soul iva^ nij^h 
To burst its mortal hound as 1 rebuk'd him. 
Pfcu. But yond«'r look, ivhere comes 

Don Garcia through the v« ?iibuie. 

DvR. Depart [exit Perez. 

And let us be alone. What ! would he break 
On my retiremetit rudely thus uncall'd — 
No leave obtaiu'd — no question ask'd ; but in. 
As if I kept a tavern for liis highness ? 
Enter Garcia. 
Gar. Durazzo ! 
DuR. Garcia ! 

Gar. Hovv, my lord ? 

DuR. My lord 

Afijain, or Garcia, as you chuse to speakj 
Addressioii me. 

Gar, 'Tis bold, Sir, — nay, methinks 

You look but sliuhtingly upon your patron. 
DuR. My patron ! 

Gar. I was 80 this morning. 

DuR. True- 

But see, 'tis mid-day now. Thiok'st thou vob 

orb, 
Who, on his {glorious round, keep- half oureanb 
for ever in his beaui, bciiolds uo changes 



40 ©rJRAZZO. (Haynes* 

In this diurnal planet, but the lapse 
Oi ii;ro\viii>^ iioiir.* urid seas^ons? '. — think again ; 
Trii!<t nje-, there are more strange vicissitudes 
1 ban one man sundirjjj by another's side, 
V. ho never was above him, but iti tortune. 
Gak. 1 would keep down this sweUing of my 
heart 
To reason calmly with your haughtincs-. 

Dim,- My hauj;htiness ! 

Gar. Ay, hauj^htiness ; what el^e 

Could breed this \oi\y tone i Those trapi)U'gs, 

too, 
But ill become the state of yesterd«y. 

DuR. By jour invour. Sir, 

'Tis ><ometimes prudent to adorn our limhs, 
Thrtt fools, WHO looli no deeper, thence ma) see 
We mean to be respected. 

G\K. But to change, 

A-" vou have done, in dress, in manner, word, 
A^id action, frouuhe lowly ti«ing '>ou have been, 
So suddenly, as if the flash of t'ortune 
Had ietyour soul arid body in a tlarae, 
Is matter more for mirth than deference. 

DuR. indeed ! 

Gar. The world wi'l laugh. 

DuR. Advise the world 

it laugh not out too loud. 

Gar You would not make 

So huge a sacritice as all mankind^ 
To your voracious anger. 

DuR. I might chance 

To know some voices in the jubilee, 
Aud make amusement danger to the sharers. 
Erewhile my pride was like an idle blade 
Tu »l rusted in the scabl)Hrd ; now 'tis drawn, 
Aud liouristi'd o'er your heads — beware of it. 



I 



Act lit, DURVZZO. 41 

Gar. Have you not crawl'd your way to this ? 
DuR 'Twas tate 

Ordain'd it so ; but I have broke her ?pelis, 
And here stand up tor my prerogalive, 
E.ilarg^d, and tree to act. What I have done 
And sufi'er'd was necessity : what more 
1 do, shali be from cUoice, and speak the mind 
Within rue noble. Bul were I ds vile 
In birth, as penur) bei,^ot on meanness, 
Still, haviuii; won my place, 1 would assume 
Its uj^wge, honours, titles, aud respects, 
And in the teeth of scorn be dignitied. 

Gar. Yet hear me patientty. — Your tale this 
morrjing 
Hath wrought a purpose useful to the state. 
Pi'ovoke not inquisiiion, by the spurns 
You cast on others, lest yourself be found 
"No purer than you should, and what youVe 

done 
Be, by your rashness, undone. 

DuR. Have you aught 

To urge besides ? 

Gar. But to apply the rule. 

Let no vindictive spirit 'gamst Henducar 
Betray your passion to an act of rash 
Revenge. — Bethink you, 1 have pass'd my word 
That in due time he shall submit to you : 
Bethink, — and pause. 

DuR. O ! as the insult fell 

On me, I know how calmly you can bear it j 
Nor have I yet forgot, how light you made 
This morning of the blow ; as if it were 
A ^nat that stung my flesh, — The hand which 

strikes 
Down from tbeclouds, may execute unqueation'd 
o2' 



42 / DUR\ZZO- (Haynes, 

The pnrpopes of ilji ojnnipotence : — 
hot tliHi whose torce a mortal .shoulder wields, 
Slrikesat ii> jjenl, and i» ausweiable 
To God and man. 
Gak. i cmut' not here to li-trn to this rudeness. 
DuR, Nav, I've !so.:.e notion ot the cause 
iliai oioughl 3'ou. 
Wa!» it to tr) the tenor of yov^r frown ? 

Gar. Did I not rak-^e }ou — oiake 3'OU what 

3<Mi are ? 
DuK. With the kinii's help. 
Gak. Yon sneer, but it was ?o, 

Dlk. Went jour intention wilh iL, when 3011 
ki.ev\ not 
Mv n!>jtct nor my claim ? 

Gah. No matter now ; 

'i Is now encui^^h to won.ter at \our fortunes. 
Dun. \ ou s-ee m ivitat a changefui \Horl.d we 
li\e : 
Tl)e beguar of to-day is rich to-morrow ; 
Tne nch man poor — df.-pised. 
Gar. i'li hear no more. 
DuR. Go l)ome. and ponder on't. [exit Gar. 
So ; this i^ well. But next to take some course, 
Such as ma3 mar the Oiiptials I have heard of, 
And lay lienducar prostrate at my feet. 

[exit Durazzo. 



SCENE 111. — An apartment in Benducar's 
house. 

Bridal preparaiinns. — Bendvcar, Alonzo, Ze- 
LiNDA, Trikst, attendants, <^-c. i^-c, discovered 
Ben. Now, holy father, let the rites bej:in ; 

For time steals on apace, and we must seek 

On foreign shores our shelter, when the night, 



Act III. DURAZZO. 43 

Which come? advising home to other heads, 
To us shall publish exile. Mv brave son 
Alonzo, that our friends asseml)led here, 
And all the world, may know how pure I hold 
Your conduct, though traduced by evil tongues, 
Take from my hand my daughter. 

Alon. Such a gift, 

Rich in itself, is richer still from thee ; 
Crown'd with the noblest motive that can grace 
A generous act. In war, you taught me how 
To draw the sword, when honor gave command: 
In peace, you teiich me how to bear the stings 
Of faction, hate, caprice, — 
My guide in all things, good or fortunate ! 
Ben. Zelinda, speak — stand forward. If your 
tongue 
Is palsy-struck, your hand can move, I ask it, 
To give where I have named. 

Zkl. Oh, hear me, Sir, 

With patience. 

Ben. Look around upon our guests, 

And say, is this a time to pause, when all 
Expect what all must well approve ? 

Alon Yet listen 

For my sake, noble friend, if in her eye 
My favour is forbi<iding, I would rather 
Leap from the battlements, and take my chance 
For life with rocks beneath, than creep within 
The fairest bosom, whose reluctant snows 
Denied me. Chance may break the greatest fall; 
But nothing can revive the drooping heart, 
Or make aversion love. 

Ben. She has not said 

Her heart disown'd you ; no, sortie sudden folly 
^Hath seized her mind ; but she must choose 
between 



44 DURAZZO. (Hayn,es„ 

Her father and that folly. Speak a^ain, 
And in anoUier tone, or >jj)eak no njore. 
"What! do vou still rel"u:se ? 

Zel. Hut for a day. 

Ben. Once and forever. 

Zel. Plead for me. Alonzo ; 

'Tis hard to ask you to become my champion 
A-jainst youri^elf ; but to the noble mind. 
There is no violence in sacrifice, 
When p^ide and pity join to honour it. 

A/ON. My friend— 

Hen Peace. peace, would you be cozen'd thus 
To a^k ? bhe knows this night will bear you 

hence ; 
Njv, not an hour can 'lapse before the guards 
Will |p;id you to the tVoutiers. Vield m time ; 
Or let your ftlher's curse — 

Alon. Forbear, my lord. 

>, 2;ood Benducar ! never, for my j^ake, 
Sm »li any curse fal! on a child of yourV ; 
Miicli le'« the h rdest curse of all — a father's. 

Ben She wrings it troin me. Bid the priest 
bego \e ; 

1 would not have his ears contaminate 
Wiih imprecations such as I must use. 

Zel. Hold, in mercy, 

One moment — I obey. 

Alon. That struggle cost 

An agony beyond a thousand groans 
H- aved by a thousand captives. Oh ! Zalinda, 
Your virtue has subdued e'en love itself, 
To think of nothing hut your happiness. 

Ben. What mean'st thou ? 

Alon. To resign 

All claim to this whit? trembling liand ; to provft 
My admiration of her virtue, by 



Act ITI. DUR \ZZ0. 45 

An art of justice »nd humanity. 

Zel. Alonzo, this is to be iireat indeed. 
DuR. {witliovt.) Stand off— make vvaj? there, 
let the g;nards advance. 
As on your peril 3 on shall answer it! 

Enter Dukazzo, CJ^ccr and guards. 

Alon. Again. Durazzo 1 By my saqji, you come 
Ricrht aptly to my wish. For all ^y wiongs 
I irivR you broad detiaijcc, and the lie 
Which your own soul must echo. [drarsss, 

DuR. Say you so ? 

The shortest quarrel is the sword's. I hate 
The war of words when it is time tor action : 
My life to yours— Come tin 1 [they fight. 

Zel. Part them, my father, part— 
Off. What means this tumult, 

In •corn of law ? My lord Durazzo, least 
Of all becomes it you to have a share in't. 
DuR. Then seize ^our prisoners ; for, while, 
thus vve stand. 
In attitude to o;ive and take offence, 
It is the law of oui antipathies 
To strike. 

Off. Hold : I arrest you, lords—submit. 
Ben. You are a soldier, and a gallant nian ; 
Oh ! let not such a slave j»revail against us. 
Duii. Conduct them hence, each to a sepa- 
rate dungeon. 
Bfn. What, at your bidding I 
DuR. Yes ; the slave commands. 

Alon. On what pretence is this audacity ? 
DuR. I'll tell you, for 'twill gall you.— 'Twas 
the sentence, 
That from the city gates you should depart 
Within a stated time. That time has just 



46 DURAZZO. (Haynes. 

Expired. For such contempt you must atone. 

This yonrabetlor in the like oliencc, 

W ho harbor'd > ou aiiiainst the king's injuaction, 

Ino'jrs an eqtial penally ; — and now 

1 hope you're an?wer'd to your wish. 

Ben. 1 see — 

I s'^e it all^ fler slow co'sent is noiv 
AoGOunteo^pr. My cuise is hers again. 

Zrl. Look, on my knees, bei'tre this holy man. 
And all i love and fear below, my soul 
Is innocent of the abhorred charge 
You wron^ me with, as light is innocent 
Of darkness. 

Alon. Oh ! believe it, Sir ; 'tis true- 
It must he true. 

Bfw. One only way is left 

To chase the fell suspicion from my mind ; 

What I ask — I claim — ' 
That from her heart she hanish yonder hend. 
And, on the instant, swear, by every power^ 
Pivme and human, never to be his. 

Zel. I swear. 

DuR. Zelinda — pause — deny — retract 

Zkl. 'Tis register'd in heaven. 

DuR. Heaven has no ear 

For >;ich an oath ; 'tis barbarous, unjust, 
L n>i.Tateful. 

Bkn. Have we found the means to reach 

Your stubborn bosom ?— Bless, Oh, bless my 
child ! 

Zel. My father ! 

Bi-N Sweet, farewell ! 

[Tne ^iiardy bear fjff Benducar and Alouzo, 

Zel. 1 follow you. 

DuR. Zelinda ! 

Zel. Would you speak with me ? 



Act TV. DURAZZBi 4S 

DuR. A moment — 

Think on the wrongs I sufferVl. 

Zei . In your own 

Dai k breast they have tbeir record. I must 

think 
On those you can inflict [exit. 

l;uR. And have I lost her ? 

The (laughter gone ; the father in my power; 
M^ rival too ! Thus bad and good unite, 
And both distract me ; but the ^ood prevails. 
'Tis not upon the top tf fortune'.^ wheel 
That we should quarrel with our destinies. 



ACT IV.— SCENt: I. 

An apartment in Durazzo^s house. 

Enter Durazzo and Perez. 

DiTR. Did I not bid that none should enter 

here ? 
Pkr. 1 thought, my lord, Benducar's daugh- 
ter might. — 
DuR. His daughter! — she shall come : what! 
are tht^y humbled — 
Those spirits of the hiL^h patrician port ? 
And can ihey bend and >uo, who stand so straight 
Wnen others bptid ? — Admit her ; and observe ; 
Tii^re rose som. tumuli in the street but now. 
Go learn the cause, the limes are full of danger. 

[exit Perez. 

I must not flinch one atom from my purpose ; 

'Kot thoogh she weep : what are her tears to me 

An I my revenge ? Madam ! — [enter Zelinda. 

Zkl. xMy lord, I come a suitor to you. — 

IXtk. For wtiom ? 



48 DUR\ZZO. (Haynes. 

Zkl. For one I dare not name. 

DuR. Then let 

Your tongue obey yonr heart. 

Zkl. In 'liMnai; so 

The istronirer feeling will at la>t prevail, 
And that is for vo\jr captive — lor my father. 

DuR. Came }'ou from hini ? 

Zel. 1 did ; hilt yet without 

His privity : — he knows not that i came. 

DuR. ' ris stran^^e ; for sure he might have 
pleaded favours 
ConferrVl on tse, to challenge like for like, 
And draw down mercy on tiie merciful. 

Zel. This is no accent to address to grief; 
Ifyoti must needs refuse, refuse in mildness— 
Or even in anger : — iron} hej^peaks 
A pleasure in the pain it aggravates. 

DuR. To set aside my other wrongs, reflect 
How shortly since his word prevaii'd with you 
To cancel all your vows. 

Zel. What could I do? 

He would have cursed me. 

DuR. Cursed you ! ifhe had — 

A curse is hut a wish, and you should know 
What human wishes are. The foot of power 
Is on him now, — the fool of enmity ; 
Think'st thou a woman's arts can lift him up, 
Against the strength and sinew of revenge ? 
Impossible. 

Zp:l. 'Tis true, I have no claim 

Pretend to none ; perhaps you oujiht to hate us ; 
But, in this trying moinent, letthe voice 
Of my distress plead as distress, and win you 
To mercy, as you 'd spare a vanquish'd foe 
For mercy's sake alone. — 

DuR. It is not alwavs 



Act IV. 



DURAZZO. 



49 



A m'^rit to forgive. 

Zkl. Iti«!^ for ever: 

The stamp of Heaven is on it. Oh ! Durazzo 
Ambition's self .should love it, for 'tis power ' 
Exerted in forbearance, proved in peace ; 
'Tis like the God ^vho gave it us, unchanginff. 
And nngels praise it everlastingly. 

DuR. I thought not to have met you, thus 
unmann'd: 
, Zelindn, you will own I saved your life. 
If I had saved my dog's— that dog had "thank'd 

me — 
Grown fond of me. It is a claim that wakes 
In bnitaJ natures the humanity 
Of gratitude. You talk of mercy well ; 
But why did you forget toshewh me ? 

2el. 'Tis for its own sake, not tor mine, I 
ask it 

Think of my father's age, his reverend locks, 

Tfie silver there 

Would shame the touch of any injury, 

Think even of me, who have no niother's care 

To pay me for a father's torn away 

With like protection. If, as vou have said. 

You loved meon/e, keep so nnich fondness back 

As yet may wai/n compassion in your breast 

For one that l/.ved as wtil ; and do not join 

With nature t(j complete my ori>hanage. 

Dun. Mine/ears arc shut. 

Zkl. Ay, b/jtyou heart is open. I cnn reach it 
ThuM, with Jy lifted hands, Uiy streaming eyes 
Ihis \HMye\~{Kfieelu,..) They preiail, 

I s^e the stru<rg!e — 
The victy-ry. Upon your forehead stand 
n-.vp 't. uv^ ^f pain : iho^: are the tears that melt 



m- 



DURAZZO. (Haynes. 



VuVf^n when the burning sig,ht is drv beneath. 

DuR. Ynji h;}ve pn vail'd — subdued me. 
Take — take this ; 
'Twin o{)e the dnnii;eun ante? : take it, but flj 
Before my reason comes lo;idod,vvi{h vvronss 
To chjde my weakness. Go — and go for ever. 

Zel. For ever, then, in this sad world^, 
farewell ! 
An<l may we meet in that bright land of peace 
Where paission rules no more ! [Kxit Zelmda. 

Ouh. <.n!en ! say I. 

An)l)ition, 1 will worship thee alone; 
And, from the fitful passion*^ of revenge 
And love, escape to thy great altar. Lift me 
Above this petty conflict of the mind, 
And take me A\. Ha! Perez, weicome. 

Enter Perez. 

Frn. Alas! my lord,l come with fearful tiding?. 
I went into the street as you commanded, 
To tind the cnuse of the dis' rder there. 

DuR. Well, what report you ? 

Per. Thick the people thronged, 

For such a j^ight Gienada'^i popuiace 
Ne'er saw before. Along the [>uhltc highway 
J[or miiiister, Don Garcia, with hjs nephe.v, 
Atithoiiio, both were- led in chai-is : the charge 
Ag*'.ineit them treason. 

Dun. liiis is newa, indeed ! 

Pek. But furthermore, 'tis said Aionzo takei» 
0>)mmand within the city, to repel 
•T lie advancing Moor. 

DuR.. Aionzo take command ! 

pEii. Bend ic^i.r, too, is summon'd of the 
council. 

Dtfii. Wbat day is this <^' the. raonth ' 



Act TV. FURAZZO. 4ii 

Per, Twelve 5un? have pass'd 

Within its circle. 

Dup. My pro!?perity 

Came on as sudden as a northern sprinp; ; 

Bill, as quick 
A-* * inter strikes the pole, misfortune t'jrnSj 
To sweep atVHV the track and vestige ot" 
My perishing hopes. More must be known of 
this. 

Per. But how ? 

DuR. I'll to Bendur.ar ; 'tis hi« custom 
To ivalk of evenings late within his <iarden ; 
Ti'ere will I force him to revenl, if aught 
Of danger or suspicion vv.ai(s for uie. 

Per. 'Tis hold, like all your plans ; bat 
shotjld he d:ire you ? 

DuR. Vou cannot fear I'd kih him! 

F'fciR. Mt'rry ! no ; 

The Heavens forbid ! 

Dlr. About the midniubt hour 

Expect tne. If 1 come not, search the foifst. 

SCENE II. The Street. 
E'ifer Two Citizens. 

First Cit. Here are sharp doings, nfisl> 
bor. The Moors are coming to attack ns ; and 
everv honest tradesmitn, who works liken slave, 
is expected to fight like a devil. 

Skconu Cit. For my part, thoujib I have no 
objeriion to fighting, when I'm m the hnujonr, 
i don't like tlwse sudden demands upon my va- 
lour. 

First Cit. What do you 'tend ' 

Second Cjt, Truly, to take caie of myself, 



52 DURAZZO. (Uaynea. 

as a good subject and a pious Christian ought. 
But where is Durazzo in this season of danger ? 
First Cit. A heavy suspicion hangs over 
him, since the spies were seized and the Moor's 
dispatches to Lord Garcia discovered. Ha! 
look, if here be not the rest of our neighbors. 

Enter a Body of Citizens. 

First Cit. Well, what is the latest news ? 

Third Cit. The eneni}' are expected to- 
morrow, and a notice is posted up in the public 
square, requesting that no person, gentle or 
simple, will be dastardly enough to leave the 
city in its distress. 

Second Cit. No, no : we shall leave it be- 
fore the distress comes on, and so fulfil the 
proclamation. — But yonder is the general him- 
self. 

Third Cit. He has been calling at every 
house, and making harrangues in every crowd, 
to prove what a fine thing it is to get run thro' 
the stomach for a patriot. 

Second Cit. My stomach has no appetite for 
cold steel : so he may prove what he likes ; 
but he shall never prove me a fool : so here 
goes for warmer food. [Going. 

FiHST Cit. Nay, let us not desert hitn before 
his face : for now that he is found to be an in- 
nocent man, and a brave man, he is entitled to 
some attention. — Lei us hear him for a while 
patiently and respectfully, and then we may 
run away like gentlemen. 

Enter Alonzo. 

Alon. How now, friends ; whither haste you ? 
Second Cit. Froui the city, 



^^^T^*^- DURAZ^O. 5S 

Whose fixates a re thipaten'd by th' inva(]ingMoor. 
Alon. And liasleyou trom the city ilireaieu'd 

thujj ? 
Second Cit. We dare not t^tay. 
Alon. Were you not born here ? 
Second Cit. Truly, 

Grenada gave as birth. 

■^^^*' It took some tinne 

To train you up (o the full stale ol sr annood j 
Aud ail thai time )ou [jassM liere ? 

Second Cit. You have guess'd 

Aright. 

Alon. Your trades you learned and practised 

here ? 
Second (it. V\ e did. 

Alon. And now on the first show of danger. 
Before a sword i*; drawn, or a spe>ar bi (.kt n — 
Nhj, even before an enemy a{)pears — 
The place that gave you t)irth, that bred you up 
To man's C(»ndi ion, lauglit you trades to rise by, 
Was QiOther, nurse, instructor, pairon to you/ 
l» shunn'd like an int'eoted housti. because 
Yoa hold the noble attribute of iife 
Worth al! the virtues in the Ciilendar. 

First Cit. We know the city long, and love 
it well, 
^ut cannot bring it help. 

Ai>ON, Not with your bac k»J to't. — 

I thougtit the sturdy toui;,b plebeian he.irt 
BIrtde. like th» oak, for storms : it used to be. 
Your bodies you should consecrate to death, 
Rather than shame them thus. What can you 

hope 
From flight ? to starve— to be pursued— be 
trodden 

b2 



54 DURAZZO. (Havnes. 

In some dark ditch. Hm^ your heads for shfime. 
And cr:uvl into some kennel, which tt^e dogs 
P;ive lelt, to bark at the rude noise of war : 
The holes they shun w ul . serve to shelter you. 

Second Cit. What could our nunibers <lo ? 

Alon. What could llie rest, 

If all, like you, were bent to -ave themselves ? 

FiKST Cit, We had no leader. 

Alon. Had you not the cause 

Of an endan^er'd country ? How ! no leader ! 
What leader had you vvhen you ran away ? 
Oh 1 you can run by instinct ; but, to stand 
When dani^er threatens, is an art you know not. 
Yet, come ! reform this error, and repair 
Straight to the citadel ; there call for arms, 
And, with the noblest of your cofintrymen^ 
Aspire to u«*e 'em nobly. 

First Cit. What say you ? 

Second Cit. I care not if 1 go, 

Thiud Cit. ISor I. 

All. Nor we. 

Alon. Those words become your gallant 
hearts. Now, now 
Yon talk like Spaniards, and the foe hath lost 
His spell Ujion you. 

If we survive and conquer, 'twill be fame ; 
Jf ue perform and die, 'twill still be fame ; 
And fame ennobled by the sacrifice 
Great natures know to make, when lireat demands 
Inspire the choif^e of dying. Follow me ; 
Bring with you blows ; strike, as the trumpet 

sounds. 
Through all the field. The foe will meet you 

fiercely ; 
But, when y^uv desperation looks at him, 
He'll stnnd ii^hast ; his noisy troops will pause 



AcrlV. DURAZZO. 55 

Oi panic, like some thunderinc; cataract 
Boiintl up in trost, as silent as tlie power 
That smote ii ui the air. Now for Grenada. 

(^exeunt. 

SCENE 111. — Moonlight. — A Garden belonging 
to Bfnif/ucar's House. 

Enter Dur \zza w^apijed in a cloak. 

DuR. This is the spot. Benducar should be 
here 
Already. What if hesho-iild fail to take 
His cusiom'd walk. ! There is a chill ilamp air 
Ahro^d, which, throuiih the sense?*, comes upon 
The iimostsoul with dews of (nelancholy. 
How awful is this wide repose ! 
Nature is laid within the arms of silence ; 
As if this earth were but tiie shadow of 
Sotne other world. And cm I tru-t 
My passion with an eneaiy who smote — 
Deg;raded — cutled me as a fioward hoy 
Is tauaiht hisjmanners, or the drud^ini; team 
To mead its pace ? Sustain me in this trial, 
Sweet patience, and lock up the memory 
That tills the vessels of m\ heart wiih ijall, 
And stamps on shame the color of reveni^e. 
His a^e a-xain shall save him. Hark! iie comes — 
ISo ; 'twas the falling of some wiiher'd leaf, 
That left its branch as men drop ofl' hy time 
From the green stem of life. Again — 'tis he ! 

Enter BenducaR. 

Hail, and good night ! 

Bkn. Who's there ? a stranj^er ! — speak. 
VvR No stranger to your name and vvertli, 
Benducar, 



56 DURAZZO. (Hayne*. 

And yet no friend to either. 

Ben. Are you come 

To taunt — to threaten me ? Within there, help .' 

DuR. Another word as loud, and we drop dead 
Together with the sound. 

Ben. Assassin, off! 

DuR. I come not tode'^poilyou of your wealth; 
Nor to the peace and honor of your house 
Bring aught of harm. But hence disguise — 

you see 
1 am no common felon. {Throwing off' his cloak. 

Ben. Ha! Durazzo! 

More welcome were the felon at my door ; 
Nay, in my chamber. 

DuR. Yes ; the face of those 

We injure hath its terrors. 

Ben. You and 1 

Can never meet to settle wrongs in peace ; 
-Tis absence only can suspend our hatred. 

DuR. I sought you not to bend the knee be- 
fore you, 
Nor with my tongue to flatter, where I loathe ; 
But, in such accent as becomes a man, 
To tell what 1 suspect, and, on the ground 
Of fjur equivalent, demand an answer. 

Bfn. I long to hear the favour and tiie claim. 

DuR. Y'ou would not stand indebted to a foe ? 

Ben. Not for my life ! 

DuR. You know 1 gave you freedom. 'Tis 
not too much 
To ask in fair return, in honesty 
Of mutual de.ling, that the plots (for there 
Do my suspicions tend,) the plots now ripe, 
Or ripening for my ruin — nay 'tio so— 
Should, in your tongue's confession, reach mine 
ear. 



Act TV. DURAZZO. 5- 

To guard me from the whisper'd artifice. 
Ben. You take me for a prophet. 
•^UR. To be plain, 

1 know the king, Alonzo, and yourself, 
Held conferlPnce to-day. It may concern 
Ny welf jre much to understand your counsel, 
Afid therefore have I co:ne to qtiestion you. 
Bk.v. First f r your claiin, vain man — I owe 
you nothing : — 
Thank Heaven I do not. Even the gift of freedom, 
Coming from you, 1 had no reh.-h for. 
But ^purn'd it. 'Twas the king delivered me. 
DuR. Ha !— 

Ben Next for the hoon :— whatever works 
against you 
In public or in private, on the throne 
Of day. or at the altar of the night, 
Blust find in me a friend,— not a\etrayer. 

DuR. Remember where we stand : — you are 
nut now [moved ; 

In fields where, at your worl, whole armies 
But Here alone. The winds that pause above ou 
Will not at your command bring up their force, 
^or send their loud battalions thundering 
To wake the drowzy sleepers of your imuse, 
1 hat they may helpyou. Oldyou are, and feeble-, 
And in Giy power. Let that instruct you how 
lou ought to act, and give a wiser answer. 

Bkn. 'Tis lost on me. I am too old to learn. 
And old enough to die. What I've sworn to do/ 
I will perform ; and that is, to be se.~ret. 

DuR. Beware the danger. You have wron^M 
me much ; ^ 

So wrong'd me, that the fiercest appetite 
Of vengeance, Avere it human, should relent 
And stay its persecution. When I sought 



58 DURAL'ZO. (Haynes. 

A soldier's name, yon crn?s*d and thwarted me ; 
^Vhen, as I \vi!i contess, 1 loved your daughter, 
First hiivioijr rescued her, — tliere, there again, 
lou met me with despair ; and when at last 
You struck. — Oh, that my toriS;ue should ever 

tell 
Of blows endured and unavenged ! — your life 
Was mine by every law. Would you do more, 
And hope to live ? Again, beware the danger. 

Ben. Jf 1 must dve, it shall not be witliout 
Resistance : threats prepare, not shake my soul. 

DuR. Oh, that you were but young, or 1 as old! 
Then weapons, and not words, should pass be- 
tween us. 
I will not stain Diy manhood with your blood ; 
And, though Ibrbearance may be fatal to me, 
Your rancour yet may breathe. But, hold- 
there is 
One fault, one injury, to be redress'd. 
'Till now, we never stood alone together. 
Since I received your blow. To cancel it 
Is past your power ; but you may yet apply 
Some kind regret to calm the throbbing sense: 
1 would not go into my grave thus branded ; 
And, as 'tis like we ne'er shall meet again, 
I ask for some submission. 

Ben. If, indeed, 

I did repent me, you should hear the same ; 
But not repenting, 'twere a He to say so. 

DiR. Ha! would you justify the foul disgrace? 

Ben. I w oulH not st(-.pp my mind to think of it. 

DuR. Behold this ring !— it was your daugh- 
ter's gift — 
A gift 1 prized : nay, 'twas a pledge of faith 
Since vanish'd. I restore it back again 
To her — to you ; and now hostility 



r 

: Act IV DURAZZO. S{>' 

Is all the bond between rae and Benducar. 

Ben. I would not liave it otherwise. 

DuR. Nor I ; 

But hence yon stir not 'till you do rae right — 
Confess — crave pardon. 

Ben. Pardaii ! 

Dua. I3't not meet 

For such an insult ? 

Ben. Give me way. 

DuK. One word 

Is ail I ask. {Laying hold of him, 

Ben. Unhand me. {Struggling to get loose. 

DuR. Bui a word 

Ben. Away! 'tis ruffinn violence to hold 
My o;arrTient thn<?: 1 will be free, or fyjl. 
Abijoired iiend release me. 

DuR. What! a blow! — 

Another blow! ! — tU© second must be fatal. 
Benducar, draw ; draw, and defend your life ! 
[Drnzvf! his sirord, and rushes on Benducar ^ 
heats dozvn his sword and kills him. 

DuR, Dead, in an instant ! So I am revenged: 
He strike? no more. Now burn, ye angry lights, 
1'hat to this fiti'd hour have led me on ! 
The work is yours ; burn, therefore, in yoiu' 
spher.s, [Pei'v' 

That hell may feel you. Where — where am 1 '{ 
iMethinks 1 am an outcast from the name 
And race of man*; — the enemy, and not 
The fellow of their kind. — I'll seek some cave, 
And have myself there chained to a rock, 
Lest 1 shouhl murder others in my madness. 
Pa! voices — hush ! — Be they of Heaven, 
'%f earth, or hell, it is my doom to fly them. 

[exit. 



^ DURAZZO. (Haynes. 

SCENE IV. — An Jipartment in Bcnducar's 

House. 

Zelinda and Leonora are discovered with ai^ 

tend ants. 

Zel. It wns the clash of swords. There'j? 
murder doiie, 
And in the gaiden where my fnther walk'd. 
Keep otT! 'tis cruel thus to bar my w;^y, 
When, with a huDter's fury, 1 should drive 
Through bush and bryke — 

Leon. Are there not others g:one 

In search of him ? — Contused and agonized, 
Hopest thou to lijjd liim out ? 

^KL. Him, or despair ! 

Leon. Bf;ho!d ! they come who sought him-; 
Now — 'tis now 
The time to call on Heaven. 

Zel. First, let them speak; 

Then, if I can. Til pray. 

Enter MES9E^GEns. 

Leon. What news? — They're silent.! 

Yet there's a fearfnl h;\s(e within tiieir eyes 
That would have utterance, but for somclhino; 

still 
McTQ feariiil that prevents their tongues. 

FiHST Mi- 3. " Alas ! 

Zel. Does horror brino; you here, and do yea 
pause 
For language to express your mission ? — What 
Can happen liPre ^n had as whatyou've look'd on 
Though 1 droppM dead at rriention of your taie. 
If what you s;aw was luurdei ? 

F I R s T M IS . \V e m ti s t e ' en 

Qonfes'* the trnth—vour fitlu.-r is no jriorc •' 



Act TV DUR »ZZOi 61 

^.vu. I thonsjfit *J0 ; yo\ I cannot he^r it now 
A • k«^e,(i mv "^f^nse-i : shew njf where he lies ; 
Oil Heaven, rnv father dead ! D d you s;»y dead? 
S<» i'^y>\. so kind. !«o mercjful — and'dead ! 

FiHs r Ml -5. 'Ti>^ hard to say it, but we found 
hiMi with 
His ^vvord Reside him, drawn as in defence. — 
The poidt vvas bloodh^s-, but the handle stain'd. 

Zf.l. And no life ij,one but his, and no wretch 
li\ ing 
But me. 

Li ON, There mn-^t be one more wretched S'ill, 
While the aj»SHs?iin breathes. 

Zi-L. Let him be found ! 

r all our fornis are not a mockery — 
Fi ti him odt, and pnnish hitn. 
Ifm.rder 'scapes, make law>! for kite? and crows; 
But not for men : the name of law i?: we-di'-f s. 

Mls. We hope to seize the monster soon. 
Ti)is ring, (Shewing a ring. 

Which lying nexi the body we espied. 
May hapiv vet discover him to justice. 

Zel. \ rinqi;! — ha! let me see, — ' Twcrre bet- 



ter rave 



And frouj the ^up of madne" , pledge the moon, 
Than lo >k on this with reason. 

Lfov. What dire secret 

Hath started from that token ? 

Zkl. 'Twas my mother's : 

Slu:: put it on my hand O Heaven ! and I 

I ave it — 

Lf:o^. Speak — to whom ? 

Zj L. To him — Durazzo ; 

The n-jrdorer ! — my father's murderer ! 

LhuN, Down on hino tall, thou bitter penalty 

F 



62 DUKAZZO. (Hayncs. 

Of conscience ! 

Zel. No : the rack, which strains the limbs 
And tears the joints, can hetter minister 
To my substantial fury. Once I loved him ; 
But now nny hate — Oh I save me from that hate ; 
Lest, with my woman's voice, I shock the ear 
Of blessedness, and grow a fiend with cursing. 

Fir.sT Mes. There is no time to lose. Let us 
away 
And seek this same Durazzo. {eoceunt Messengers 

Zel. Are they gone ? 

Leon. You see they are. 

Zel. And sure to make him captive ? 

Leon. The next to certain. 

Zfl. He was born to he 

My ruin and his own. But when he's dead, 
And the offending arm is level with 
The common dust, 'twill be no crime, T hope, 
To lay him in the earth, and cover him, 
And give one shriek back at the memory 
Of what he was. 

Leon. Nay, think of him no more. 

Zel. Oh, father! father! has my grief no voice 
To reach thee in thy dist nee, cold and far 
As being chan:ied ? What lights are those? — 

ha ! torches ! — 
What need of such to make the church-yard gay; 
To gild witii pomp the cities of the dead ; 
Those bare republics? Gomel we'll follow close; 
It is my father's funeral ! — come on ! 
He Was a hero, and I know him by 
The plumes, that wave in victory, and wave 
In death, as flaunting as in victory. {exeunt. 



Act V. DURAZZO. 63 

ACT V. SCENE I. 

A Wood. 
Enter Durazzo. 

DuR. Methought I heard the voice of Perez 
call me ; 
But, 'twas so mingled with remember'd groans, 
And now and then the summons of t'le drum 
Beating to arais, I could npt follow it. 
What noise was that ? {Noise without. 

Enter Perez. 

Per. Mylonll my lord Durazzo! 

'Tis Perez calls. 

DuR, Ah ! Perez, have I still 

A friend in thee ? 

Per. My lord, a faithful servant : 

But you are wet and cold. Where did you sleep 
Last dreadful niglit ? 

DuR. 'Mongst fiends, in hell. 

Per. Por pity's sakft, 

Fix not your eyes thus on the vacant air. 

Dur. 1 see him every where. 

PtR. 'Tis weakness to be moved in this ex- 
treme ; 
If, as I hold most likely, he provoked 
His fate. 

Dur. He did. You know he struck me once — 
He struck again. 1 bade him arm against me ; 
He arra'd him ; but the fury in my soul 
Had broken through a guard of Hercules : 
My blow was death ; — he i'ell. 

Per. Then learn to think on't 

But as the fatal issue of a quarrel ; — 
You see it was no more. 



64 DURAZZO. (Haynes. 

DuR. But thfen thp shame-— 

Th^' pity too. — but more, the >hame, ihe shame: 
An ol-; mati';- hh)f)fl upon a yoiiDii man'!- hand ! 
ZfiJinda's I'aiher's blood upon Dmazzo! 
Oh ! when he dropp'd, hi« i)ead was white as 

snow : 
Couhl I have hreath'd my own lift' into him, 
He sriould have liv^d to see hi^^ child agam. 

Pi R. Unhappy hidy ! 

Di R What pf her — I charjje yon — 

Per The sho^k bereaved her DJind. She 
went distracted — 
Pa- hope of medicine'* heahoii. 

UuR. Did i^he then 

Suspec my hand ? 

Per. a rmo; you dropp'd betray'd you. 

DuR. Tliit ring she gave me \xith a smile so 
sweet, 
You'd think the soul it shone upon could ne'er 
Be touch'd with anger more, ^he gave ii me 
In love : I dipp'd it in her father's heart, 
And sent it back in blood But, if 1 live, 
For th' ungrateful deed she shall have justice, 
That, like the terror of a prodigy. 
Shall w-ike the death wuhin her mind, to look 
And tremble at it. 

F<\\. Oh! my lord, your speech 

Is vvild on this adlic.ting Uume. 'Tuere best 
Consider how to meet the charge, than ilius 
Unfit yourself 

Dt'R. Pea^'e ! I fear not the law. 

As thieves and plunderers fear it. for its pains — 
Its penalties. 'Tis not the bod\*s lall, 
Nor the mind's flight ; but t!»e dishonor stamp'd 
Upon the memory, that shakes my nature. 



Act. V. DUflA^rZO. 65 

Per. Consider, therefore, what had best be 

done. 
t)vR. The noblest course is action. All night 
long 
I heard the martial preparations which 
Denote a coming siege. Melhouglit J heard 
The death-drnm, too, at the first davva. Was't 
fancy ? 
Per. 'Tvvas true, my lord ; for Garcia and 
A.nthonio 
Were executed then by the king's order. 
DuR. I thought as much, Weil ; they de- 
sferved to die : 
But to our purpose. I must 
To join the approaching conflict. 

Per. You ! my lord. 

DvR. Find me some fit disguise, Kay, look 
not doubting : 
The kmg has been my friend ; the people's love 
Has fuiJow'd me in days of scorn, and ciieei'd 
My heart when great ones chiliM it. I would pay 
Thof^e favours, both at once ; iind the <iisgut,-.e. 
VVhat tongue can say, but fortune iiiay confer 
One boon at parting ; some illustrious feai — 
Some gallant rescue I Death's a formal thing 
In jails, on scaffolds, or on beds of down ; 
But in the tield — there he throws off his shroud. 
And full of mettle as a courser, starls 
The comrade, not the tyrant, of the brave ! 
Per. You mean to seek for death, not risk it 

merely ? 
Dlr. Ay, ay, to knock for entrance at the 

grave. 
Per, ni do your bidding straight ; and the 
design, 

f2 



^^ DURAZZO. [Ilavnes. 

Thonsh lernble to thought, T grieve to say» 
I cannot wish abandonM. Sinct^ we parted, 
lS}y longne, the bearer oft of heavy news, 
Hm^ learnt anolher tale I now may speak ot. 

DuH. Now, or at any time. Co.ubme the whole 
Into one t^Minderbolt, and strike it at uie, 
You'll tind -ic tirm. 

pj2j^ Vincenzo — • 

DuR. ^^Vr • 

Pkr Ishvine— 

Hrre in Grenada living. His return 
Belie- the letter that r.onde(r.n d Alonzo, 
4nd thu. o'erthrows your credit with the king 
DuR. That I must feel, for that affects my 
lame. . , . o 

The, hera!,l Crom the camp deceived ns liven ? 
l>i.-,R. He was himself deceived, and all, A 
Irance, . , , , 

Lnn- held Vincenzo in it= cold eml.race . 
An?rwounds and g.ushes, in .he fighl received. 
G.ve countenance to the behel "f de^.th 
\Vl,o.e outward shape he wore toallobse vers. 
DuR. Hath chance a soul, that ,t should hate 

me thus ? . t> i 

But His too lale to vent complaints. Begone t 
I'll wander hereabout 'till yon return 
with the disguise, and tiien I've done com- 

manding;. , r t u \a f..n 

Yet hold : wheu 1 am dead, if I should fall 

During the day's encou.t-r^ ^'""''"J.'l 
The convent of our lad.v, where Zel.nda 

'Bides with the sisterhood.^^^^^^^^^^^,^^^ 

DuR. I cannot donbt. 1 know you'll do so- 
For one^cu've followed long and faithfally. 



ActV, burazzo. ^ 

Per. Voar life, 1 trust, will s»pare me such a 

task. , - 

DuR. It' so, 'twill leave a harder task for me. 

[exeunt^ 



SCENE U.—Tke court 
Ei^ter King, Alonzo, and nobles. 
King. Benducar's murder shall be well 
averii^etl ; 
But §ood Alonzo, 'tis no time for mourning. 
When at our very g ites the eufiiuy 
Makes bold to knock. 

Alon. He ghall be answer d qusckly. 

My soul, indeed, is sad ; yet argue not, 
Because my soul is had, my passion feels 
The less disposed to combat. Grief^ grown 

savn!;^e 
From lack of tears, consorts with slaughter well,. 
And makes a lion of calamity. 

KixG. Are ail our faithful citizens »n arras 
To aid the troops ? 

Lord. All, all :— they Qock »n <:rowds ; 

And fn.m the rampart heights, with brandish'd 

blades, 
Beckon the foe in their impatience. 
I saw a mother set her child astride 
A howstzer.— and when the infant smiled. 
Call on the men to smile like him in action. 
King. Whether by force, or fraud, th^ wilsi 
Moor 
Hath overreached our army, to arrive 
And give us fight beneath onr very walls, 
i^^ppears not ^et from oui advices. 



68 DURAZZO. (Haynes. 

Enter on Officer. 

Say, 
What news report you now ? 
, Off. The enemy 

Is in the plain and forming to assail us. 

King. Ourself will join the fray. To you, 
Alonzo, 
Our young patricians look : the noblest blood 
In Spain shall make your charge invincible. 
Alon Now, lords, prepare ! The Moor, the 
Moor is come 
To beard us in our streets : Grenada blushes, 
But trembles not. You, the nobility. 
Have interest in peril to assert 
Your right to honours, by your worth to wear 

'em : 
Come, fling your coronets into the tield, 
And win them back again that none may say 
Your titles rusted from inaction. 
Haste to your horses — mount — the battle waits; 
'Tis tumult and not war, 'till you are there. 

[Jiourish of trumpets. 
We'll ride not till they fly. — Behold, they come 1 
Engage them foot to foot, and hand to hand ; 
And, from this da.y's bold memory, begin 
A new account, vvith glory for yourselves. 
And those who follow.-— On, my friends, fall on 
Let's envy eren the dead who are beibre us 
In gracing such a scene of enterprize^.^ 

Trumpets,. ^'.C'.~-''r Exit. 
... — — ^ ,-^-,_- 

SCENE III.— ^3 Field of B&ttlc, 
Enter Durazzo and the Moorish Cm i^v fightings 
Chief. Base Spaniard, yield ! 1 am the 
Moorish Chief. 



Act V. DUR\ZZO. 69 

DuR. Prontl Infidei ; . otn vanity hath lost you. 
Were you iit"ti«s:<eriiot.^ ) •»!] night have 'scajjad 
M} scirnitnr, hut death sha'n't miss you now. 
Chief. My ooast is in n»y «word 
Duii. This to conlound it" 

[Theyjlght ; Durazzo kills him. 

Enter Flrez. 

P' R. Well met, my Lord. 

Dufi. Hu ! Pt^rez, l)onest heart, 

Gocd tnorrosv, ouce -isain ! ho'A fares it boy ? 
There ues t'.ie leader of" ihe eiii my. 

Pek TUank ^'eaven ! the honour was re- 
sei V d tor you ! 

DuR. Ye?) : i forgive my start*. 

E ter n SoLDfER. 
Sold. The King ! — il»e King ! — haste- 



rescue 



DuR Out with it, 

What of the Kins'' 

Sold. Id yonder narrow pass 

Tfif f »e surround him. \^Exit Soldier, 

DuR. Now for such a deed 

As makes it worth a brave nun's while to 
perish* [Exit Durazzo and Perez, 



SCENE IV.— Another part of the Field. 
Enter two Lords meeting. 

FiR«T LORD How goes the day ? 

Second LcyRD. With us such prodigies 

or valour have no living memory, 
Nor trace in ail our records. Where I stood 
A house was set in flames, which the wind blew 
Across our ranks, but never stirred a man. 



no DURAZZO. (Haynes. 

The fi^sht,— the fire, 

Was scarce a human sight : it look'd a hell. 

And the red faces ol otir citizens 

And troopj^ engaged, the furies raving in it. 

FiKST LORD. What of Alouzo ? 

St-coND LOHD. By his skill and courage, 

The right wing of ther enemy was turn d, 
And thus ensured the victory. He comes 

Enter Alonzo. — (Trumpets sound for victory.^ 

Alon. I hring jou tidings of the King escape. 
Capture or death awaited him but now, 
When a bold band, Durazzo at their head, 
(Whose vices left him tor a single day) 
IBrought back a monarch and a conqueror. 

First lord. The Heavens be praised ! and 
is Dnrazzo safe ? 

Alon. It is unknown. The rescue made, 
he plunged 
Amid the thickest fray : all eyes pursued 
HiN plume; — itdi^appear'd ; 'tis thought he fell : 
But, where he last was seen, the ground is 

strew'd 
With carcases. He left his fiery mark 
Upon the battle, as the bolt of Heaven 
Splinters the lock. 

Second lord He was a gallant man. 

Alon. His fortune to the last astonishes. 
But haste we to congratulate the King, 
And learn what remnant of our gallant friends 
Tliis sl.iughterous hour hath left. 

FmsT LORD We will attend you. [Exeunt, 



Act V. DURAZZO. Tl 

SCENE V. — The inside of a Convent. 

Enter Zelinda, Leonoza, and Abbess. 

Leon Alas ! she wanders still — wide, wide 
from rtason ; 
When, even the terrors of a day like this 
Moved not her fear, — not even her notice. 

Aebf.ss. Truly 

Her heart is overcharged : ifs vessels fili'd 
With misery of its own, can echo to 
None other. How she sie^hs ! Oh ! speak to her. 

Leon. Do you not know me, gentle friend ? 

Zel. How should f ? 

The world was peopled once with friends ofuiine, 
When my dear father lived ; but now thev say 
He's dead, and all my friends have left me too ; 
Yet you're a gentle lady, on whose face 
I look with pleasure, for 'tis s^p'owful. 

Leo. 'Tis sorrowful indeed* to see you thus, 

Zel. Well, you may soon be satisfied ; for 
death 
May come as soon to me as to my father. 
Oh ! can so great a change as death be wrought 
In such an instant ? — Life will scarce believe it. 
Now living, moving, speakii^g, loving me — 
And now insensible as yonder cloud 
That makes, not hears, the thunder. Are the 

drums 
To beat no more ? 

Leo. Peace is restored, thank heaven 1 . 

Zel. Peace I ,what is peace ? You call the 
silence, peace. 
That trembles after slaughter : nay, you give- 
The artt^ul trick of nations, who will pause 
But to gain strength, and so begin again, 



^2 DURAZZO. rHaynes. 

The blessefl name of peace ! But if within 

It dwell not — if its spirit be not httre 

Yon lalk a language, ivilder than the wind 
Conver^^ingwith the ni^ht, to call it peace, 
W !ien 'tirt but quiet. Misery is q-iift, 
And I am quiet. Would I were at peace. 

Leo. You see she noted the loud uproar too. 
Is not this strange ? 

Abb. 'Tis oft with madness thus, 

That though tooutnard Meeming, it observe not 
The pr»-.ent thou^^hr oi action,7uture chance 
VViii touch some .-'iio^, ttiat shew.- the memory. 
In her crazed dw. lipi,;, to have treasured it. 

NuN'. Oh, hoi^y siiollier. such a sight ! 
A'-B. Say, daughter, wifat sight ? 

Nln a wounded warn- r at the tcaie, 
Faiiit fro i. tne loss of bluod, enireats admit- 
tance. ^ 
Ae3 Be he of Spain, such comfort as the 
place 
AlTjrds shall never be denied to him. 

AuN. He is of Spain ; and by his dress and 
be.jring, 
Of no inferior note. 

Abb. Conduct him hither, [exit Nun. 

Leo. lean look on the dead, but not the dying, 
Anci this man conies to die. 

Abb. He's here already. 

Enter Durazzo, wounded and blnody. 
Leo. Merciful powers! Durazzo! Come, 
my friend, [t, Zelinda. 

This !^ no place — this is no sighi for \ou. 
DuK. Force not the beauteous ruin from 
miue eyes, 



Act V. DURAZZO. 73 

For I am come to gaze on it and die. 

Leo. Have you not done enough to make her 
wretched ? 

DuR. No ; 1 must search her heart with one 
pang more, 
And then my fate's fulfiU'd. 

Leo. 'Tis monstrous wrong, 

DuR. 'Tis justice, and not wrong, that brings 
me here. 
Good mother, pardon me this seeming rudeness; 

[to the Abbess. 
The battle fever still is in my brain 
And shoots my words out angrily ; but I 
Am grateful. Let me have a moment's speech 
With yonder sweet unconscious sufferer, 
Then, for my soul, say masses. 

Abb. Will you consent ? 

He will not barm her. [to Leonora, 

DuR. Harm her I If my heart, 

Torn from its living cell, could give her rest 
Or respite, you should see it at her feet : — 
This hand should shew it you. Harm her ! 

harm heaven '. 
Either were impious and impossible. 

Abbess. I said you would not. 

DuR. Look at her. Oh! look, 

And judge how true you spoke. Is she not lovely 
And innocent, and gentle as the zephyr, 
That blows the odour of the blossom round, 
But never hurts the bloom ? Harm her ! my life! 
A devil could not harm her. 

Zel. Ha ! that voice ! 

There is but one voice in the world I know, 
And that it is 1 hear. What feeling's this 1 

T 



74 DURAZZO. {Haynes* 

A sudden chnnge, a conf^ciousness I had not, 
Breaks on the dark intirmity ot mind — 
Is madness s;iving w^y within me ? 

Lkon. Go : 

Tie terror of your prespnce — {To Durazzo, 

DuR. Wakfs her reasf^n : 

You would not, therefore, have me leave your 

friend ! 
She faints — {^Zelinda falls into Leonora'' s arms.') 

Now she revives, and the blue orbs 
Of meaning j^atr.er up their beams in thought. 
She knows me — yes, she knows me ! O, Zelinda! 
I dare not clasp \ ou,but I'll weep with you. 

Zel. Stand off! By what miraculous power 
you \\iK'h\ 
My senses at your will, I know not ; but, 
As you have power, have sai tly pity in 
The exercise. Let m^^ be mad again. 
Ha ! Are you not a murderer ? 

DuK ' Behold— 

I bleed while you reproach. 

Zel. Is t your own blood ? 

Sweet Leonora, are you with me too ? 
Oh ! pity him. 'Twould be a crime in me. 

Leon. Pray you retire. {JFo Durazzo. 

DuR. Will she not hear me first I 

Zel. Some other time. 

DuR. 1 stand upon the verge 

Of time, and you must hear me now or never. 

Zel. What would you ask ? 

DvR. Forgive — 

Zi^JL, B')t that I see 

The rapid strides of life to get away 
J^rom your embrace, I dare not utter pardon ; 



Act V. DUR\ZZO. T5 

Yet, as we shall be soon in separate worlds, 
Bear my forgiveness with you to the next. 

DuR Kneeling, I thank you ; and thus mea- 
suring 
The distance which my crimes should set be- 
tween us, 
Even after pardon, I stretch out mine arms 
To blej^s — but not to touch you. 

ZhL. Oh ! Durazzo, 

There was a time— 

DuR Talk of that time, sweet maid ; 

Ambition stifled love awhile ; but now 
Love comes, as if to peep into my grave. 
You said there was a time ! say on. 

Zel. Forget it ; 

For then my father lived, and you were guiltless. 
You weep ! 

DuR. If lions weep, they weep such tears. 
There is more anguish in one drop of mine 
Than floods that fall from patient gentleness ; 
For mine are tortured from me : others flow. 
But mine are tears that bleed. 

Zel. Dry them, and leave me ! 

DuR. Zelinda, we shall never tneet again ; 
*Twere wrong that we should part till all is 
perfect. 

Zel. What is there more ? 

DuR. 1 will not pain you with 

The story of my wronii;s, nor strive to palliate 
My great oflences ; what 1 could I did 
This day to n^ake atonement to the state. 
But you. whom moiSt I lovf,, I most have injured. 
Ko matter what contemptuous spurns, what 
taunts, 



16 DURAZZO. (Hayncj. 

What provocations, drove me to the deed. 
Nor what high domineering of the stars : 
'Twas cruelty to you ; and, being so, 
Shall be revenged. 

Zel. I understand you not ; 

Your eye is wild with passion. 

DuR. Look on me 

For the last time. 

Zel. "Wbpt mean you ? 

DuR. To be just. 

Zel. Be merciful and leave me. 

DuR. Doubt it not. 

My hour is come. Look on me once — now turn 
Thy face away . Farewell, thou last reraember'd I 
Death makes a sluggish journey in my veins, 
But thus 1 bid him haste. [Stabs himself, 

Zel. Almighty Heaven ! 

DuR. The blood upon this dagger be the seal 
Of peace between us. 

Zel. Oh ! Durazzo. 

DuR. Speak ! 

For in such accents angels speak of mercy.. 

Zel, I cannot. 

DuR. Then farewell ! The silent look 
Shall satisfy, — and now — you are revenged. 

[Dies. 

Zel. He's dead ! Durazzo's dead I The hand 
that saved 
My life is lifeless ; but I'll kiss the clay. 
Who's there ? my father! interposing; frowning! 
I bow me to the interdict, and leave 
The body to its last receptacle. 

Leon. Haste from this scene, my friend. 

Zel. Oh^ Leonora ! [Faintsf. 



Act. V. DURAZZO. J^"^ 

Enfer King, Pehez. Nnbles.kc, 
Per. Aia?' 1 mv fears were true ; there lies 

Durazzo. 
King. The niirht upon his brow is that alone 
I- %vn>ch bis troubled spirit coul<i find rest ; 
I> .t oe ^hall lie amonif^t the tsallant slain, 
\rid his last deeds shall speak his epitaph. 



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